


This City Was Built to Burn

by orphan_account



Series: Killjoys Never Die [2]
Category: Bandom, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Battery City, Better Living Industries, Blood, Drug Use, Drug Withdrawal, Gen, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Killjoy Names, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Gore, Panic Attacks, Past Character Death, Resurrection, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-08-28 18:52:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8459038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Battery City was nothing more than a prison. Fun Ghoul had known it since the day he was born. When he was a teenager, he'd made his great escape, abandoning his old ways for those of the desert. His new life was free; he had a cause, friends, a family to call his own. Just the way he was supposed to. In the end, he would die for that family. Just the way he was supposed to.He thought he had died, until he woke up back inside the prison he had tried so hard to escape. Surrounded by willing addicts, city rats with ideas too big for their own good, and rebels who barely knew the meaning of the word, it would have been easy to give up.But Ghoul had never liked to take the easy way out.





	1. boy, you've got to see what tomorrow brings

Tyler had always liked the feeling he got after taking his medication. It was so relaxing, like a warm blanket draping over his limbs, providing more comfort than any other wordly pleasure. It made everything seem perfect. Everything was just so _beautiful,_ he could barely stand it. All the buildings lining the streets of Battery City, their curved glass surfaces glinting in the sunlight; the pristine white paint coating every wall; the way the air burned his lungs as he breathed in, the chemicals within it purging every sin from his lungs. 

Battery City was truly heaven on earth.

His footsteps echoed quietly against the pavement. Cradled to his chest was a slip of paper. He held it with reverence: tightly, but not too tightly. Keep it crisp, but keep it safe. It had to remain in flawless condition. The words written on it could determine the entire course of his future. 

Those words would determine his ability to fall in love.

He kept a steady pace down the street, his eyes focused straight ahead. Like always, the city air had a bit of a bite to it, but Tyler didn’t mind. The bubbling happiness in his chest would keep him warm. He would typically credit the feeling to his meds, but this time, he knew it was something else. It was her. The thought of how she would smile if their relationship was approved, how her blue eyes would sparkle, it made his heart swell until he thought it might burst. 

His grip on the paper tightened. 

It was only a few more blocks now. 

He passed by a street lamp, and it flicked on. The sun was beginning to set over the city skyline, throwing streaks of color across the sky. Tyler hadn’t seen clouds so bright in a long time. Usually, they were a blanket of white or gray overhead, but beyond the silhouettes of office buildings and complexes, they had turned to a blaze of orange. 

He knew it would only be a matter of minutes until the glow sank behind the horizon. For those few minutes, he allowed his gaze to shift up, and watched as the sunset slowly dimmed.

The moment the sun went dark, Tyler stopped walking. The city lights took over in an instant. They burned bright as he slipped inside a building, unable to stop the smile from spreading over his face.

During daylight hours, any office such as this one would have been filled to the brim. City-dwellers would come to file complaints, make requests, or conduct any other sort of business, causing traffic jams and lines that could take hours to wade through. Tyler had tried three times already. Three full days of waiting, and he hadn’t gotten close to the front of the queue. He was cutting it close by arriving so late, but it was his best chance to make his request known. All he had to do was get home by curfew. That left him half an hour. He hoped it would be enough time.

Fortunately, the office was deserted. He hurried right up to one of the booths, where a droid waited behind a glass wall.

“Next. Who is next?” it said.

“Me,” Tyler said eagerly. He shoved his document forward. “I, uh, I have a courtship application. It’s all filled out and everything. Could you look it over?”

A red light shot out from the droid’s forehead, scanning Tyler’s application.

“This woman’s name is Jenna Black?” it asked.

“Yeah. Uh, yes, that’s her name,” Tyler said, blushing. 

“And you are Tyler Joseph?”

“Yes.” Tyler waited for a response, but was met with only silence. He hesitated. “So… Um, do you think I’ll get approved? I know you aren’t the authority for this sort of thing, but do you think there’s any chance--”

“The evaluation process can take several days. You will be notified of your results when they are available,” the droid said in a monotone voice. “Next. Who is next?”

Tyler backed away from the booth. The pill he had taken with dinner must have been wearing off; he could feel the weight of disappointment, heavy in his chest, as he shuffled outside. The air seemed chillier than it had mere minutes ago. 

He started to turn back down the route he came, glancing up at the dark sky. It was getting awfully late. He glanced at his watch. 

When he saw the time, his mind instantly rolled through the list of BLI-approved exclamations, finally landing on _frick._

He had ten minutes to get back home. If he was late, he risked getting stopped by a patrol on his way. That was bad enough under normal circumstances, but with his application pending, he could barely stand the idea. He couldn’t afford to attract any negative attention. 

Tyler spun in a frantic circle, then, before he could think twice, took off down a side street.

He didn’t know this part of the city as well as other areas, but if his memory served him well, he could make it back to his apartment in just over five minutes if he took the right route. He ducked around a corner and down through an alley, praying he was on the right track.

BLI always talked about building a Better Tomorrow. As he ran, the wind whipping across his face, the thought spurned him on. He was shaping his future with every moment. He was going to make it home safely, his application would be approved, he could be with Jenna, they could be happy. Later, he would confess the true depth of his feelings, which would also be approved by BLI, and he and Jenna could combine their two Better Tomorrows into one. Everything would turn out perfect. Nothing could stand in his way.

Except, perhaps, a pair of city rats tearing down the street with lit torches in hand. 

One smacked into Tyler, knocking him flat on his back. His head made a hard _crack_ against the pavement, sending a shock wave through his skull. He groaned with pain and squeezed his eyes shut tight. Each beat of his heart brought a fresh ache. 

“Shit,” one of the strangers hissed. “Watch where you’re going! C’mon, let’s get out of here!”

It took a moment for Tyler to realize that he wasn’t the one who was being addressed. 

The one who had run into him hovered, his torch flickering in the darkness. “I dunno, man, that really didn’t sound good. We can’t just--”

“Save it! We’ve got to get out of here before we’re caught!”

Tyler sat up with difficulty. Instantly, the one who had hurt him was at his side, helping him up.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

“It’s fine,” Tyler mumbled. “I just, I, frick, I need to get home. I need to get home right now.” He forced his eyes to remain open. “I have to get home before curfew.” He was still dizzy from the fall, but nothing could stop the panic flooding through his system. He was going to be late. He couldn’t be late!

“It’s okay,” the stranger said soothingly. “It’s okay, we’ll get you home.”

“We’ll _what?_ ” said the other. Everything was blurry, but it looked like he had a bandana tied around his face. Why was that?

“We’re going to get you home,” the nice one repeated. “Where do you live?” He had a bandana on, too. Only his eyes, wide with concern, were visible. 

“Corner of Third and Park,” Tyler mumbled. Part of him wanted to decline the offer, but the nausea rolling in his stomach said otherwise. He couldn’t make it on his own. Standing took enormous effort, and he stumbled, the nice one catching him. 

“Oh, thanks,” Tyler said. Everything was hazy. He blinked hard, trying to bring the flame at the end of the torch into focus. It didn’t work. Shaking his head, he squinted into the face of the man who was almost completely holding him up. “I can’ see you. Wha’s your name?”

“Uh…”

“You don’t need to know that,” the other one cut in. He lowered his voice, speaking again to the nice one. “If this guy gets us caught, I’m going to kill you. If you really need to take him home or whatever, just get it over with, then we’re blowing this popsicle stand. Got it?”

“I got it,” the nice one confirmed. He shifted a bit, hoisting Tyler to a standing position, and his voice softened as he addressed Tyler. “You can call me Message. What’s your name?”

“‘M Tyler. Take me home, please, I gotta get there for Jenna.”

“Okay, Tyler. I’ve got you.” 

“Wha’s that for?” Tyler asked, waving his hand at the torch. “‘S pretty, ‘s like the sunset... But you’re not s’pposed to have fire. You gotta be careful. Gotta stay safe.” 

Message, or whatever his name was, laughed. “I’ll be careful. I think you should be worrying about yourself, though.”

“Me? ‘M fine,” Tyler slurred. “‘M jus’ gonna… Gonna sleep now.”

“Hey, wait, no--”

Tyler’s head fell forward, and he let the darkness wash over him.

***

He woke up on the floor of his apartment.

It took a moment for the events of the previous night to come back to him. The ache in his head returned along with the memories, not as acute as before, but still painful. He sat up slowly, making sure the nausea had vanished before he stood up.

Tyler made straight for the bathroom. It must have been morning, judging by the light shining in from the living room window, which meant it was time to take his meds. He opened the cabinet above the sink with a sigh of relief. The bottle of pills rattled in his hand as he snatched it, the sound alone seeming to lessen the pain in his head.

A cup sat on the edge of the sink. He filled it up and took a swig, downing both of his pills in one swallow. It took only a moment for the familiar calm to wash over him. He felt more solid now, less vulnerable.

He set out to his room with renewed vigor. In a moment, he was outfitted with a new button-down shirt and pair of pants, both in a crisp shade of white. He knocked on the door next to his, but no one answered. Zack must have been at work. Tyler had a late shift that day, fortunately for him. He had definitely picked the right evening to get hurt. 

He sat down on the edge of his bed, finally allowing himself to think over what had happened.

He’d taken his application to the office. The thought made his heartbeat speed up. In only a few days, he could take it to Jenna, and the look on her face would be worth every ache and pain he had suffered. Of course, that was assuming his request was approved.

It would be approved, he thought confidently. There was no reason it wouldn’t be. He was a model citizen. He took his medication without fail, he had a steady job at the Buy-Rite, and he’d never gotten in any sort of trouble.

Unless the incident with those two strangers counted as “trouble.”

But it couldn’t have. They had been nice enough to walk him home, hadn’t they? Tyler assumed they had even searched his pockets for the keys to his apartment in order to get him inside. They had… 

_His pockets._

He lept up and grabbed the pair of pants he had been wearing, rifling through the pockets. He breathed a sigh of relief as he went through his possessions. Wallet, keys, ID card. Everything was accounted for; nothing had been stolen. Why had he been worried? Those two were nice. Just a couple of people trying to get home before curfew, like him. 

Although, they had been acting awfully strange. Who carried _torches_ in this day and age?

It was probably nothing. Tyler flopped back onto his bed. Lying atop the sheets was a remote, which he grabbed, and with the press of a button, the TV sitting across the room lit up. He was greeted by the familiar face of a Fact News spokesman. He settled back, wrapping a blanket around himself and enjoying the warmth of the chemicals running through his veins. 

“Last night, two citizens of unknown identity attempted to set fire to a warehouse on the east side of town. A pair of draculoids were dispatched immediately, and no damage was done. However, the perpetrators fled the scene before they could be apprehended.” A photo popped up on the screen. “Please, if you have any information regarding the whereabouts of these two men, report it to your nearest Citizen Awareness Center.”

Tyler stared at the photograph.

It was grainy and blurred, the quality inhibited by the darkness of night. The two miscreants were barely visible but for the light of the torches they carried.

_Frick._

Perhaps Tyler was in more trouble than he thought.


	2. many years after the disasters that we've seen

The first thing that struck him was the cold. It was never so cold in the desert. The air felt all wrong; too cold, too sharp. It stuck in his throat when he tried to inhale. He coughed hard, the air scraping uncomfortably against his lungs as he gasped for breath.

He noticed the ground next. It was solid, like stone, and even chillier than the air. Definitely not sand. Where was he?

He opened his eyes. 

The scene before him had him reeling in an instant. He scooted back across the ground, squeezing his eyes shut, as if that could make it go away. But he couldn’t escape the sight. It was all around him. His breathing came quick and shallow, like razor blades scratching against his throat. It shouldn’t have felt like that. It should have been hot and pure, smelling faintly of smoke, a blast of wind against his face as he leaned out the window of a car. This was wrong. This was _wrong._

_Building. Concrete. White. Cold._

_White._

_White._

_White._

_The city._

_It’s a dream, it’s a dream, it’s a fucking dream._

No. He couldn’t be in Battery City. Just moments ago, he had been fighting with his friends. There were dracs, and scarecrows, and Korse had been there; the Girl had been there. She was in danger. He had run back inside, sacrificing himself to make sure she got out safely. Jet Star had yelled at him, begging him to save himself, but they both knew what had to be done… 

_Oh, fuck._

Fun Ghoul shrank into himself. Something had gone wrong. He had somehow survived the fight, which meant BLI must have taken him alive. They’d taken him, they'd killed his fucking _family,_ and now they had dropped him somewhere in their maze. They were watching him. They had to be.

He opened his eyes for just a moment, but closed them tightly as soon as he got a glimpse of the city lights. He drew a shaky breath. It was released in the form of a choked sob, his eyes burning almost as hot as his throat. 

_Ghoul was screaming, but Poison didn't seem to hear. He didn’t even fight back. He just stared at Korse, breathing hard as the ray gun met his neck, no, that was wrong, this couldn't be happening, fuck oh fuck no no no no NO--_

_Flash._

It would do no good for Ghoul to close his eyes. Whatever sights awaited him, the memories were worse. 

Ghoul forced himself to examine his surroundings. He was sitting to the side of a street, probably near the slums, judging by the trash scattered about. Looking at it made him sick. It was familiar in the worst possible way. He hadn't seen a street like this since his childhood, and since then he’d tried his hardest to forget it.

There didn't seem to be anyone nearby. That could either be a good thing or a bad thing. On the one hand, there were no exterminators to worry about. But on the other, the emptiness was unsettling. What if BLI had dropped him into a deserted part of the city just to watch him snap? What if this wasn't even Battery City, but a hallucination?

Ghoul pinched himself hard.

Not a hallucination.

He rolled up into his feet. If he truly was in Battery City, he would need food, water, and to ditch his outfit. BLI was undoubtedly aware of his presence, but he would do his best to keep any passing dracs from recognizing him instantly. 

Ghoul peered down the street. Looking both ways before crossing, he raced to the other side, cutting between a pair of buildings.

To his disgust, it didn't take long for him to get his bearings. It shouldn't have been so easy. He was no city rat, not anymore. He shouldn't have been able to slink through the alleys and side streets the way he did, as if following an invisible path, navigation taking no more effort than breathing. He had given up that ability when he left for the desert. Why was it so persistent?

Each step brought back unpleasant memories.

_Most of Battery City was populated by addicts. Pills were commonplace to them; those people Frank would see walking to their boring jobs, those zombies who never felt a thing. Their existence was terrifying. But the ritalin rats were worse._

_”Gimme all you’ve got!” the man snarled. He held the knife just under Frank’s chin. The blade trembled, but not because the man’s grip was weak. It was anything but. He was the textbook image of a pill popper: twitchy muscles, gaunt face, violent attitude._

_”I said, cough it up, kid!” he barked. Frank carefully reached into his pocket and pulled out a rumpled wad of carbons._

_The man snatched it from him. “That’s all?” He scowled. “Fuckin’ useless.” He shoved Frank away, pocketing the carbons and trudging off. Frank watched his retreating form until he was just barely visible._

_Then he pulled out the ray gun he had stuffed into his back pocket, and fired without hesitation._

_The man dropped to the ground._

_Frank went over to retrieve his carbons. “Go pick on somebody your own size, you fucking rat,” he muttered as he rolled the man over. “You think those pills give you a taste of heaven? Don’t be an idiot. They’re just the pretty packaging on a one-way ticket to hell.”_

Something rustled behind him, and Ghoul’s hand automatically leapt to the gun strapped to his thigh. He whipped around.

Nothing.

Maybe it had just been the wind, but you could never be too careful. He slipped the gun from its holster. If anyone was watching him, they'd know he meant business. If they didn't, a shot between the eyes would change their mind. He ducked around a corner.

_If Frank ever left the city, he wanted to play guitar, he had decided. It was his favorite of all the instruments you could find in the city. Renting one cost a killing, but it was worth every carbon. Playing came naturally to him. It felt incredible to be good at something. His fingers found the strings without him having to look, and the other hand would dance along the fretboard with neverending precision. Chords and runs and riffs; he could play them all._

_But he didn't just like it because he was good at it. The guitar was like a momentary reprieve from the city and all its mechanisms, an escape from reality. The music took him somewhere far away, where there was no hunger, no pills, no BLI. It was almost like being free._

Ghoul froze. He thought he had heard footsteps behind him. Slowly, he began walking again, then came to an abrupt stop. He listened hard.

Nothing.

_Frank spit blood onto the sidewalk. The red felt unnatural, such a bright color against a blank canvas._

_”You could leave, you know,” said James. “People leave all the time.”_

_”Yeah, and then they get killed by exterminators,” Frank said, wiping his mouth. He looked around. The assholes who had decided to beat him up were gone. This was the first time in years someone had actually managed to get the jump on him. He had been scheming up ways to pay for the guitar he planned to rent, his distraction making him a sitting duck for the more aggressive juviehalls. He couldn’t let it happen again._

_”But wouldn’t it be better than this?”_

_Frank frowned. “How? What do you think is out there? It’s just more of the same, with a little sand added. There are still dracs and ‘crows and regular old dickbags. They’d probably be even more violent out there.”_

_”But there aren’t as many addicts,” James argued. “Not nearly as many. And no pills, no cameras, no patrols.”_

_”I’m sure there are, if you look hard enough.”_

_”But there’s music,” James tried. “There’s actual music, Frank.”_

_Frank paused._

_”Why are you suddenly so psyched about the desert?”_

_James sighed. “Because… because I’m tired of this, okay? I always hear about life in the zones, and it sounds, I don’t know. It sounds better. I have friends who know a way out of the city… They’re leaving in a few days. I’m going with them.”_

_Frank’s jaw dropped. “You’re_ what?”

_”I’m leaving,” James said steadily. “There isn’t much time, but if you decide you want out… You could come with us.”_

_Frank drew his fingers across his mouth once more, staring at the blood that stained them._

There was no doubt about it now. Ghoul was being followed. By whom, he didn’t know, but he definitely wasn’t alone. If he stopped too suddenly, sometimes he would hear another pair of footsteps come to a quick halt. Whoever it was following him was fast, but not fast enough. 

He prayed for a draculoid. 

If Ghoul truly was the last surviving member of the Fabulous Killjoys, revenge must be exacted. 

_”I’ll go with you.”_

_James’ face lit up. “You will? Frank, that’s awesome!”_

_Frank still wasn’t sure if he was making the right choice. He answered before he could change his mind. “Yeah. But don’t call me that anymore, you aren’t supposed to use your real name in the desert.”_

_”Right, right. What’s your new name gonna be?”_

_Frank shrugged. “Not sure yet. I’ll let you know when I think of one.”_

_James laughed. “I haven’t got one yet, either. C’mon. I’ll show you where the exit is. We’re supposed to leave tomorrow, in a bigger group. For protection and stuff. Just in case things go wrong.”_

_Battery City was enclosed by a wall. Entrances were placed at each end of the city, for exterminators and whoever else would be dealing with BLI. It was nothing if not well-protected. Dracs patrolled up and down the length of the wall, watching for any runaway street rats. It was a marvel that anyone managed to escape. Frank suddenly had new respect for all those so-called killjoys._

_”This way,” James whispered. He led Frank away from the wall, skirting through the edge of the city. In time, the wall disappeared behind a row of buildings. James cautiously approached them. Keeping an eye on the security cameras, he and Frank moved along the side of one of the buildings until they came face-to-face with the wall._

_There was a gap between it and the building, just barely wide enough for a person to fit through._

_Frank blanched. “Fuck no. I’m not going through there.”_

_”It’s not too far,” James said. “Somebody blew a hole through the wall. All you have to do is squeeze down a few feet, then you can go right through it. You’d have no problem, you’re tiny.”_

_”This is your brilliant escape plan?” Frank said faintly. He and James had the closest thing to a friendship you could find in the city, but that didn’t mean Frank would put his life in James’ hands._

_”Nobody knows about this exit but us. We’re here now, and we’re fine, aren’t we? No dracs. Everything’s gonna be fine.”_

_”Yeah, but there’s only two of us,” Frank argued. “What’s gonna happen when you take a big group over here? You’ll be noticed. You can’t fit a lot of people through there at once, James, you’ll be caught. You’ll be killed.”_

_”They’ll be here to watch our backs. I trust them, okay? And besides, they’re tumbleweeds. They’ve been to the desert before. They can give us inside information, and you know that’s something we need. Newbies in the zones need guidance. Can you imagine getting thrown in with no one to help you?”_

_Frank groaned. “James, you idiot, you never trust a tumbleweed. Who knows where their alliances are?”_

_”That’s bullshit,” James said angrily. “That’s like saying all city kids work for BLI.”_

_”But it’s risky. It’s so fucking risky…” Frank glanced at the gap between the building and the wall. It was hard to imagine that freedom lay only a few feet away._

_”I’m going,” he said suddenly. He hadn’t intended to, but the idea jumped into his head and took root in an instant. “I’m gonna go right now. It’s the perfect opportunity, there’s no one here to stop us.”_

_”Frank, you can’t!” James said, grabbing onto his arm. “That’s crazy! You’ll be all alone!”_

_”Don’t call me that.”_

_James’ eyes were wide with concern. “How are you going to make it out there?”_

_”You could come with me,” said Frank._

_”You know I can’t,” James said sadly. “Maybe you’re right, maybe it is too dangerous to go in a group. But if that’s true, I can’t just leave my friends behind. I have to help.”_

_Frank managed a small smile. “I’ll figure something out, then.”_

_”Are you really going to do this?”_

_”Yeah, I…” Frank looked at the gap once more, taking a deep breath. “Yeah. I think I am.”_

_James pulled him into a bear hug. “You’re so stupid. You’d better not get yourself killed before we can meet up again, okay?”_

_Frank wriggled out of his grip, rolling his eyes. “I won’t. Uh...” He hesitated. “Thanks, I guess. For being cool. It’s kind of hard to find people as nice as you in this place.”_

_”Same to you,” James said, smiling. “Good luck out there.”_

_”See you on the other side,” Frank joked._

_He turned around, ignoring how his heart raced, and slipped into the gap._

_Inside, it was pitch black. He dragged his fingers against the wall for guidance. It was oddly quiet; the noise of the world outside had been blocked out. The only sound was that of Frank breathing in the dusty air. He stifled a cough. Staying in here too long would be a bad idea; he could already feel the air thickening in his lungs, making it harder and harder to draw breath._

_After a few more steps, the exit became visible._

_It was a soft yellow light, pouring in through the hole in the wall. Frank moved as quickly as he could toward it. Just a little further, just a little more, he pushed through it, and--_

_He was free._

_The desert lay before him, vast and untamed and full of potential. Battery City wasn't his home anymore._

_He wasn’t Frank anymore._

Ghoul stopped walking. “Whoever you are,” he called out, “you should show yourself now, unless you want me to have to go to the trouble of hunting you down.”

After a moment, something rustled quietly behind him. Ghoul turned around, zap held at the ready, ready to face whatever threat had been tracking him.

When he saw who it was, he stopped, then lowered his gun. 

It was just a kid.

The boy had the standard look of a street rat; color, but not too much of it. His baggy black t-shirt was covered with stars and planets. A pink bandana was tied around his face, and a wide-brimmed hat sat atop his head, curls of brown hair poking out from beneath it. 

“Please don’t shoot me,” the kid said nervously. 

Ghoul crossed his arms over his chest. “Why were you following me?”

“B-because,” the kid swallowed hard. “That outfit. Where’d you get it? I mean, did you make it, or is the real thing?”

“The real thing?” Ghoul raised an eyebrow. “What the hell are you talking about?”

The boy looked confused. “That’s Fun Ghoul’s vest, isn’t it?”

“Uh…” Ghoul looked himself over. “Yes? The last time I checked, I was wearing my own fucking clothes? Come on, kid. What’s your deal?” He knew it probably wasn’t the best idea to reveal his identity to a stranger, but something felt off. He didn’t think this kid was working for BLI. 

“Your own…” The boy’s eyes widened. “You’re not… Fun Ghoul is dead.”

Ghoul paused. “I’m what now?”

“Fun Ghoul is dead,” said the boy. “He’s been dead for years.” He sounded suspicious now. “What’s going on?”

“You tell me,” Ghoul muttered. “What’s your name, kid? I think we’ve got some information to exchange.”

The boy took a cautious step forward. “It’s Message Man. Am I supposed to believe you’re the real Fun Ghoul?”

Ghoul stuck out his hand, and Message Man shook it. “Yeah, you are, ‘cause it’s the fucking truth.” He looked over his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. We’re too exposed.”

“I know somewhere we can go!” Message said eagerly. “It’s this way, follow me.”

He took off in the direction they had come. Ghoul followed after, a little slower, keeping an eye out for any dracs lying in wait.

This day just kept getting weirder and weirder.


	3. the cameras watch the accidents and stars you hate

The pill felt like a drop of gold slipping down his throat, warmth instantly flooding through his veins and sending a shiver down his spine. Tyler didn’t _need_ the medication, exactly, but he felt he deserved a treat. Today was a special day. 

He still hadn’t received the results of his application. He had been back the office once already, only to be rebuked: “You will be notified of your results when they are made available.” After a few days, the extended wait time had begun to worry him. But he had a good feeling about today. Today, something good was going to happen. He was going to go back, and somehow, he knew that an answer would be there waiting for him.

Tyler looked himself over in the mirror, practicing his most winning smile. His hair was neat, his eyes were bright; he’d make a perfect impression. All he had to do was keep trying. 

From the next room over, there came a shrill beep. Someone was calling him. He set his pill bottle aside and went to retrieve his phone from the kitchen, his face lighting up when he saw the icon displayed on the screen. He quickly pressed a button to accept the call.

“Jenna!”

“Hi.” Tyler could hear her smiling on the other line. “Are you busy? I was wondering if you’d want to come over.”

“I would, yes! Absolutely,” he said. “But give me a while to get ready, okay? I just got out of work. I’ve got to do a couple things, then I’ll be right over.”

“Okay! See you soon.”

There was a brief pause before she hung up. Tyler could almost hear the words that were meant to fit into it.

_Love you._

The call ended with a click. 

Jenna didn't know that he had requested permission to be with her, to be her… boyfriend? That didn't feel like the right word. They had been best friends for years, and known each other for years longer. Tyler knew that they both wanted something more than friendship, but they had never discussed the specifics, the paperwork and adjustments and formal details. He was planning on surprising her.

Today was the day.

“You two are adorable.”

Tyler looked up. Standing in the doorway was his brother, wearing a black suit almost as sharp as the smirk on his face. The suit was part of his uniform; he was lucky enough to have a position in one of BLI’s top facilities. The smirk was part of something more familial. As the younger of the two brothers, he constantly teased Tyler over their difference in status, but it was all in good fun. The fact that they were able to share an apartment was a testament to the strength of their bond. Zack stepped inside, playfully ruffling Tyler’s hair before he could jump away. 

“Zack! I have to look nice, don't do that!”

“I’m helping! Messy is the new cool, haven't you heard? Now you look,” he made finger quotes, “‘artfully tousled.’”

“I’m not sure BLI’s officials will care about street style,” Tyler mumbled. 

“Whatever. You're gonna do fine.” Zack squeezed Tyler’s shoulder before heading off to his room, calling over his shoulder as he went. “Go get your girl!”

Tyler stood still for a moment. As he stared down at his phone, he let the medication in his system melt away any stress he was feeling. Everything was going to be okay. 

He swung the door open and stepped outside. 

As he made his way down the street, he kept an eye on the security cameras affixed to every corner. It was terrifying to think that he had come into such close contact with a pair of criminals… If he had been caught on camera with them, he could have gotten into serious trouble.

Why _hadn’t_ he been caught on camera?

Tyler quickened his pace as he cut through an intersection.

The details didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was safe. The delinquents would be caught, if they hadn’t been already, and no harm would come to him. Everything was going to be fine. He focused on the slow, calm beating of his heart. 

_Everything’s fine._

The office building couldn’t have appeared soon enough.

The second he stepped inside, he had to hold in a sigh. He hadn’t planned this trip the way he had before, and the lobby was flooded with people: he’d come just in time for the evening rush. 

Resigning himself to his fate, Tyler fell into the line. 

_I should probably tell Jenna I’m going to be late._

***

Keeping his mission a secret was so difficult. For hours, Tyler was stuck in line, his feet beginning to ache from standing so long. Eventually, it became clear that he wouldn’t be going anywhere that night. He wished he could provide a better explanation to Jenna than “something came up,” but he kept his mouth shut. This would all be worth it once he made it to the front of the queue. 

The passage of time slowed to a crawl. 

Droids, humans, creatures in between; they were all present. It felt like the whole of Battery City had been crammed into the first floor of one building. Transactions didn’t actually seem to take very long, but the sheer number of people kept the droids behind the counter incessantly busy. One client would be replaced by another, and though the line was in constant motion, it felt like Tyler never moved. 

It barely even registered in his mind when he was pushed to the front.

“Next. Who is next?” asked the droid. 

_Huh?_

_Oh!_

Tyler’s vision snapped into focus. He hurried forward, placing his hands on the counter. “Hi, I’m Tyler Joseph,” he said, shoving his ID card forth. “I’m here to ask about my courtship application? I filed it a few days ago, but I haven’t heard anything back yet, um--”

If a faceless robot could manage a cross expression, the one across from Tyler did. He faltered.

“So, is there… any news?”

The droid didn’t miss a beat. “Your application has been denied. Have a Better day.”

The heat in Tyler’s veins turned to ice.

“Next. Who is next?” said the droid. 

“Wait, what?” he stuttered. “Wh-- on what grounds?”

“Please move aside so the next client may be attended to.” The droid’s head tilted slightly. “If you fail to comply, you will be escorted from the premises.”

Tyler swallowed hard, then stepped aside.

_This can’t be happening._

Around him, the crowd continued to shift; faces replaced by faces, each blurring into the next. He couldn’t focus on them. Something inside him felt _wrong._ The droid’s words and all the meaning they carried were still sinking in, processing and re-processing, but the sudden void in his future just wouldn’t compute. This wasn’t the Tomorrow he’d imagined. His Tomorrow was supposed to include Jenna. Where had he gone wrong?

A heavy weight tugged at his chest, as if the floor were about to open up and swallow him. He struggled to breathe around the crushing sensation. 

Something wet slipped down his cheek.

Tyler reached up to touch it, fingers numb.

He was… crying?

_Wrong wrong wrong wrong very wrong._

He slowly began to back towards the entrance, breaking into a run before he was halfway there. He wasn’t supposed to cry, you were _never_ supposed to cry. It wasn’t physically possible. The pills simply wouldn’t allow it. How could this be happening? Was there something wrong with him?

Could that have been why he was denied?

He wasn’t doing it on purpose; he would never choose to feel all this disgusting misery and disappointment. He wished he could make it go away, but he didn’t know how. It was like an ocean crashing over him, each wave knocking him down before he could right himself.

Tyler looked all around, but the door had vanished, swallowed up by the crowd. Were they watching him? They had to be watching him. Staring at the strange little boy who couldn’t control himself, who couldn’t stop thinking about the life that could _never be his,_ they had decided Jenna wasn’t right for him, but they were _wrong._

He pushed through the mob, finally stumbling through the door, his palms pressed to his eyes.

_Stop stop stop stop_ stop.

He needed to calm down. Why weren’t his meds working? They must not be strong enough; he needed more. He had to get home.

Tyler turned in the direction of his apartment, a magnetic tug in his chest pulling him home. The streets passed by in a blur. Paying attention to the journey was useless; he was already imagining how the little white pills would feel sliding down his throat. They would make him feel so much better. He had to get home. He had to go faster. He was tripping up the stairs before he knew it, throwing the door open, not bothering to shut it before racing to the bathroom. 

_Cabinet, open, bottle, open, take--_

_What?_

Tyler’s fingers scraped the bottom of the pill bottle, but came up empty. He shook it, listening for the telltale rattle. Nothing. He turned it upside down.

Nothing.

When had he run out? He had been so elated before he left, he must not have noticed as he downed his last pill. Or maybe Zack had taken some, they did occasionally share…

Tyler’s heart hammered in his chest. What would he do? He needed the pills, he needed to stop _feeling._ He’d have to go out and get more. Just as the thought occurred to him, he turned and bolted back through his living room, slamming the door shut on his way out.

Just down the street was the Buy-Rite where he worked. It had all the medications he could ever need… but he couldn’t afford to let any of his coworkers see him like this. He could get in trouble. 

A few blocks in the opposite direction, there was a corner store. He often passed it on his way to Jenna’s house. It probably had a pharmacy; most shops did, whether they were BLI-owned or not. It would be safer to go there. Tyler walked as quickly as he could, then abandoned the pretense, breaking into a run down the street. 

After a few minutes, a sign appeared on the side of the road. He slowed his pace, attempting to relax his breathing before entering the store. He achieved moderate success before giving up and shoving inside.

A sign hanging from the ceiling pointed to a pharmacy in the corner. Tyler strolled towards it, glancing to the bored-looking cashier and hoping he didn’t look suspicious.

It was small, outfitted with the standard meds any Battery City resident could need. Painkillers, cough medicine, and… there. His fingers closed around a bottle labeled “suppressants.” He held it to his ear and shook it, savoring the noise it produced. _Shk-shk-shk._

Beneath the sound, he heard two sets of footsteps pass him by.

“Josh, that’s too much. We’ll get weird looks.”

“Let them look. We need extra food now that we've got _him_ around, don't we?”

“Can’t we cut back just a little?”

Those voices sounded awfully familiar.

Tyler slowly looked up, clutching the bottle of pills to his chest.

“No!” a curly-haired boy protested. The stack of cans he was holding reached the top of his head, tall enough that it looked ready to collapse. “Either we buy all this now, or we buy half of it and come back later for the rest. I’d prefer to make one trip.”

“Josh,” the other groaned. “Do we _really--”_

His eyes landed on Tyler, and he froze.

“What?” said the curly-haired one. He glanced over his shoulder. “Are you going to stop argu--” His voice trailed off. “Oh.”

“I know you,” Tyler whispered.

This boy, Josh, was the one Tyler had seen on the news. The one who had knocked him over. The one who, if the security cameras had caught them together, might be the reason he was kept apart from Jenna… 

“Tyler?” said Josh, eyes wide.

And with that, all the chaos Tyler had been holding at bay slammed back into his head. He backed away, still clinging to the bottle in his hands like a lifeline.

“You’re… You’re the one from before, y-you’re Messa--”

“Shh!” Josh said quickly. “Yes, but you can’t call me that. Really, you shouldn’t be talking to me at all. What are you doing here?”

“I,” Tyler stammered. “I, uh, something went wrong. I had to…” His knuckles were white around the bottle. “I had to fix it.”

_I messed up, I messed up, I--_

“Hey,” said Josh, snapping his fingers. “Snap out of it. What’s wrong?”

“I can’t,” Tyler whispered. This panic, it was worse than it had been mere minutes ago. The sight of Josh’s face had Tyler on edge, nerves crackling like static through his head. What if someone saw them together? He couldn’t hear himself think; he was running on pure emotion. This wasn’t how things were supposed to work. He was supposed to run on chemicals and logic and hard, solid fact, not this volatile storm of guilt and fear. This was uncharted territory. This was _terrifying._

“Can’t what? What happened?” Josh took a cautious step forward. 

“We should go now,” the other one warned.

“Shut up, Mark,” Josh snapped. “Can you let me help him out first?”

Mark shut his mouth.

“They took her,” Tyler said, distressed. “They-- they took us. I can’t have her, w-we can’t be, we don’t have a Tomorrow, but they always say to look for Tomorrow, what can I do? They’ll see me. Oh, God. I’m n-not supposed to-- I can’t. I can’t let it get to me, but I _am,_ this is all messed up, I _cried._ What’s wrong with me?” He could feel himself trembling. Josh closed the gap between them, laying a gentle hand on Tyler’s shoulder as he balanced his stack of cans in the other. 

“Nothing’s wrong with you. You’re… you’re freaking out, yeah, but you’ll be okay.”

“But I’m not supposed to, the pills, they’re supposed to--”

“Forget the pills,” Josh said firmly. “Just focus on breathing. Nothing else, just breathing.”

“I can’t,” said Tyler.

“You can. Just breathe.”

_Breathe. Breathe. Breathe._

“That’s it,” Josh said encouragingly. “You’re gonna be okay.”

_Just…_

_Breathe._

Tyler wiped a hand across his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, ignoring how his voice still shook. 

Josh shifted uncomfortably. “Getting food. A guy’s gotta eat, right?”

“But you’ll be caught. You were on the news, somebody’s going to recognize you.”

“Don’t worry about me. They didn’t get any good shots of my face, and they didn’t get any of you, either. Everything’s taken care of.” Josh let go of Tyler’s shoulder, hesitating for a moment. “As long as you don’t tell anyone about me, I’ll be fine.”

BLI would want Tyler to speak up. He was a good citizen; all he’d have to do was stop by the Awareness Center and give them Josh’s name, and he could forget this had ever happened. He knew what had to be done.

“I won’t tell,” he said quietly.

Josh had helped him twice now. It wouldn’t feel right to get him arrested. And besides, if Tyler prompted BLI to look more closely at their records, they might realize that he had been present that night. 

“How do you know they didn’t get any good shots of us?”

Josh laughed. “I’ve got a friend with some tricks up his sleeve. That’s all you need to know.” He cast a quick look at Mark, who was still glaring at him. “I should… I mean, you should get going now. Don’t do anything stupid, okay?” He smiled. “We might have run into each other twice now, but I don’t even know you… I’m under no obligation to be saving you all the time."

“Aren’t you?” Tyler said, managing a weak smile. “Funny, I thought that was how it worked. Bad guy meets good guy, saves the good guy, becomes a good guy himself.”

For a moment, they just looked at each other.

“Y’know,” Josh said carefully. “People like me, we aren’t the bad guys. Not the way BLI makes us out to be. Remember that.”

His brown eyes seemed to look right through Tyler, as if searching for something. Tyler stared back. He was looking for something, too… but he wasn’t quite sure what it was.

He broke away, heading for the cash register. He had to get home. He had to go someplace safe, someplace familiar. 

Someplace this confusion could never find him.

***

It found him, in the end. It always would.

Tyler stared at the ceiling, his head flat against his pillow. 

He knew he ought to forget this had ever happened. For his own health, he would have to put it aside. That was what BLI wanted, and BLI only wanted what was best for him. They gave him a future--

_and took it away._

They gave him pills to make him happy--

_but I don’t really need them, do I?_

Tyler paused.

Sure enough, his pulse had slowed to its usual rate, and the crushing fear had lessened. A calm had taken its place; more subtle than the one that blanketed him when he took his meds, but no less genuine. Somewhere along his walk home, he had come to believe that everything was going to turn out fine.

And he hadn’t even taken a pill…

But that didn’t change anything. BLI still wanted what was best for him. They gave him a job--

_as if I had a choice but to work for them._

They kept the city peaceful--

_but for some reason, people found reason to rebel._

Why would they ever rebel?

Before Tyler knew what he was doing, he was sitting down by his computer and scrolling through the recent newsfeeds, searching for any and all information about the people BLI labeled as criminals.

He clicked on a link titled “juvenile delinquents.”

_”Battery City’s juvenile delinquents, or ‘juviehalls,’ as they are informally labeled, are a plague upon our city’s poorer districts…”_

_”Destroy city property for the purpose of recreation…”_

_”Dangerous insurgents…”_

_”To be avoided at all costs.”_

None of the articles provided a reason as to why anyone would ever oppose BLI. Tyler’s brow furrowed. He didn’t understand.

He wasn’t _meant_ to understand, of course, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to. A seed had been planted in his mind, and it had taken root all too quickly. Josh seemed too nice to be a juviehall. But then again, how would Tyler know? He’d never spoken to any other juviehalls. He didn’t know the slightest thing about rebellion. 

BLI wanted what was best for him, Tyler thought once more. 

They gave him rules, safety, income, pills. They even gave him a home; they had built Battery City specifically to help people like him.

They gave Tyler a perfect world, and right in the middle of it all, they gave him rebels. 

They gave no explanation. 

But they _did_ give him a reason to wonder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my poor child


	4. let's blow a hole in this town

Message Man trudged down the basement stairs, falling in a heap onto the couch. Fun Ghoul looked up from where he sat on the floor.

“What happened?”

Message sighed. “‘S nothing. Some stuff happened, that's all. I got you food, though.” He tossed a can at Ghoul, who caught it, inspecting the label.

“Got a can opener?”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Message stood and hurried back up the stairs. Ghoul watched as he swung open the basement door and disappeared.

Message Man was something of an enigma. He dressed like a juviehall, and the fact that he still hadn’t reported Ghoul to BLI marked him as a rebel. But he lived in an actual apartment. Juviehalls didn’t have apartments. They had piles of blankets in damp alleys, or refrigerator boxes they would crawl into at night. And their attitude was different, too; they were opportunists to the core. Ghoul would know, he had once fit the label himself. Juviehalls weren’t _nice._ They didn’t let strangers stay in their basements.

Ghoul wasn’t used to being treated with generosity. The last time someone had treated him like this, he’d _bloomed under the kindness like a fucking flower, trusting, hoping for the first time in years, only to watch as the ray gun went off in a burst of--_

It hadn’t ended well.

Message reappeared at the top of the staircase, providing a much-needed distraction. As he made his way back down, he passed Ghoul a can opener and fork, then collapsed once more onto the couch. Ghoul cranked his can open and tipped it into his mouth. The sticky-sweet scent of artificially preserved fruit assaulted his senses, but he gulped it down all the same, eager to sate the hunger pains growling in his stomach. 

“You’re fuckin’ weird,” he said to Message Man through a mouthful of peaches. “You know that?”

“Um,” said Message. “In what regard?”

Ghoul rolled his eyes, swallowing before he continued. “You’re just weird. You look like a juviehall, but you don’t act like one. I mean, look at this place.” He gestured to the room around them. “This district is one of the most sheltered in the whole city. You don’t get a lot of criminal activity around here. Either you’ve got a death wish, or you’re just shit at rebellion.”

“I’m careful,” Message said defensively. “I’ve got an alias, and masks and stuff. Plus, I’ve got a friend who knows how to wipe security tapes if I need him to.”

“You’re gonna get caught,” Ghoul said bluntly. “You don’t even seem that worried about having a guy who’s supposed to be dead living in your basement. What if I was hostile, huh? Look, I don’t know you, kid, but seeing as I’m relying on you for survival at the moment, I’m gonna need you to wise up.”

“I think I’m doing pretty okay.”

Ghoul leaned forward, scowling. “Are you fucking kidding me? No, you’re not okay. It would be bad enough if you took in a regular street rat. Any one of ‘em would stab you in the back. But you chose _me,_ and that puts you in an especially dangerous situation. If someone tells BLI, they’ll kill you, and if _you_ tell BLI, _I_ will fucking kill you. Don’t think for one second that I’m joking.”

“I promise not to tell,” Message said. “But as long as I keep you a secret, I’m not in too much danger, am I? I’ve got this. You're not hostile or anything. Beyond hypotheticals, I don't have any reason to be worried, do I?”

“Yes, you _do,_ ” said Ghoul, exasperated. “You _always_ need to be watching your back in this city. If you really want to keep my existence a secret, you need to be more careful. Relocate to a different area, or at least start using your head a little more, for fuck’s sake. I’m not worried because I don’t trust you. I mean, I _don’t_ trust you, not really, but even if you’re stupid, you’re not stupid enough to rat me out. I can see that much. No, I’m just worried because you’re a naive little shit. The desert is a place to run on instinct, not the city. If you’re so desperate to be reckless, you should just break out.”

Message Man held up remarkably well under Ghoul’s criticism. He didn't seem offended; he just sat and listened quietly before responding. 

“I want to break out.”

“Great. What’s stopping you?”

“Well…” Message hesitated. “The idea just occurred to me a little while ago. I haven’t actually been doing this for very long.”

Ghoul snorted. “I never would have known.”

“I was planning on causing a bit of damage within the city before I found a way out. But then… I dunno, stuff happened. There’s this kid in the neighborhood, he gives me a weird vibe… And then there’s you, obviously.”

Ghoul frowned. “What kid?”

Message stared into the distance. “His name’s Tyler. He’s a pill popper. Sheltered, high-class, you probably know the type. But something about him is just… different. I’ve ran into him twice. The first time was literal, he knocked his head pretty bad. And then the second time was today. He was in the store when I was getting these.” He pointed to the pile of cans sitting on the floor. “He was freaking out; I’m talking a full-blown panic attack. Dunno what it was all about.”

“How is that possible?” said Ghoul, confused. “I thought you said he was a pill popper.”

“He is. That’s what’s so weird about him. I think he knew something was up… He kept talking about some girl, and how his pills weren’t working.” Message frowned. “There’s this aura around him, like... I could see him as a killjoy if the pills were out of the picture. I dunno. It’s really weird.”

“I’d stay out of it if I were you. If he’s really so high-class, BLI probably has their eyes on him. You don’t want to get tangled up in his issues.”

“That’s what Bear said.” Message laughed. “Oh, yeah! I’ve still got to introduce you guys. I think you’ll like him, he’s--”

“No,” Ghoul interrupted. “You’re not telling anyone about me. Period. You might trust people to keep the secret, but you’ve established yourself as a reckless idiot, and it’s not just your life you’re risking. I don’t trust anyone in this place. You don’t have the right to tell people if I don’t say you can, got it?”

Message Man pursed his lips. “That’s… Hmm. You’re sure?”

Ghoul thanked his lucky stars that he had landed with the one juviehall who would actually listen to him.

“Yes. Don’t tell anybody.”

Message sighed. “Okay, if you feel that strongly about it.”

“‘S okay, you won’t have to worry about me for long. I’m getting out of this shithole as soon as I can.” Ghoul pushed himself to his feet, heading for the stairs.

“Wait, where are you going?” said Message, alarmed. He jumped up off the couch.

“To look for escape routes, duh,” said Ghoul. He stepped lightly up the stairs without looking behind him. Upstairs was the rest of Message Man’s apartment. Ghoul didn’t pay much attention to it. He cut straight to the door, cracking it open and looking in both directions before slipping outside.

Message followed him out with a little less caution. “Where exactly are we going?” he said, matching Ghoul’s pace.

“You think I’m stupid enough to say it out loud? Just follow me.”

There was one place in particular Ghoul wanted to see. A claustrophobic crawl space, a hole that connected the city and the desert; the same one Frank had used to escape.

Ghoul didn’t like to think about Frank, but just this once, he’d make an exception. 

The exit he had once used probably wasn’t in operation anymore. After James-- _Reggie,_ Ghoul corrected himself--had led his party through, it must have been swarmed with dracs. There was no way it would be safe to travel through. But he had to make sure. 

Ghoul led Message through the streets at a quick pace, not bothering to see if the latter was falling behind. If he got lost, he'd just have to deal. Ghoul headed straight across the city without stopping. It had been this way, hadn't it? The memory was fuzzy, and he had to reroute several times after taking a wrong turn. But before long, he felt the familiar pull of the city, a magnetism that pulled him in he right direction.

God, he hated it.

The city was made of Smog, Deceit and Shadows; the desert was Sand and Sun. Frank was a quiet child of the shadows, but Ghoul was forged of sunlight, hot and punishing. They couldn't have been more different.

And yet, they were one and the same.

The tug in his chest lessened, and Ghoul stopped walking. Message Man appeared at his side a second later. He was panting, but Ghoul didn't bother making fun of him. He was busy staring at the building before them.

It had barely changed since the last time he'd seen it. It sat adjacent to the wall around the city, all imposing concrete and white paint. 

But the security tower sitting next to it was new.

Ghoul’s eyes narrowed. When he looked closer, he could see cameras stationed all about, swiveling and recording every inch of the grounds. He and Message weren't near enough to be filmed, but it wouldn't be safe to get any closer. 

A pair of dracs rounded the corner.

Ghoul cursed under his breath. “Fuck it, let's go. There's nothing here for us.” He turned around and began to walk in the opposite direction.

“What was supposed to be there?” Message asked. 

“There used to be a space behind the building, right up next to the wall. There was a hole you could get out through. But there's no way you could get to it now.”

Thankfully, Message didn't ask how Ghoul had gotten this information. The very thought of acknowledging his past made his skin crawl.

“Do you happen to know of any other ways out?” he asked. “If not, we're gonna have to search.” 

“I don't,” Message admitted. Ghoul sighed.

“Fuck. This is gonna take forever. We might as well get started now, though…”

“Wait!” said Message. “I wasn't done.” He grinned. _”I_ don't know a way out, but I think I know someone who might.”

***

They wandered the city for what felt like hours before Ghoul started getting pissed.

“Dude, when you said you knew someone, I thought you might have some fucking idea where that someone _is._

“We’ll find him!” Message protested. “I swear, I didn’t think it would take this long. I usually just kind of… run into him, I guess. I don’t keep tabs on him or anything. He’s a tumbleweed, he does what we wants.”

Ghoul stopped walking.

“You didn’t say anything about a tumbleweed.”

“What, does it matter?”

Ghoul scowled. “I don’t trust tumbleweeds. Never have, never will.” While tumbleweeds might have been a key resource out in the zones, Ghoul had only ever met a few that he genuinely liked. The rest were far too friendly with the city for him to be comfortable around them. They just brought up bad memories.

Of course, now that he was back _in_ the city, he supposed the memories wouldn’t matter.

“Whatever,” he said. “I guess it’s fine. But don’t let this guy see me. I still don’t want anyone knowing I’m here.” BLI didn’t seem to be aware of his presence, and he didn’t want that to change, but he didn’t want anyone else to know, either.

If some stranger tried to ask him about the Fabulous Killjoys, or how he was still alive, he just might lose it.

_Don’t think about it. Just don’t think about it._

Ghoul had lost people before, of course he had. It was an occupational hazard of life as a killjoy. It hadn’t been like this, _never_ like this, but he knew how to deal. Bury the pain, erase everything, and start anew, stronger this time. 

_”Ghoul, you’re going to have to trust us eventually. What are you so scared of? We’re never leaving you behind, I promise. We’re your family now. You’ve got us, you’ve got me. You’ll always have me. I won’t let anything happen. You know that, right?” He looked so upset, as if it was_ his _fault Ghoul was fucked up; Ghoul didn’t know how he could possibly say no._

His fingers twitched.

_Don’t think about it don’t don’t don’t fucking think about it._

“I won’t let him see you. I’ll just, uh… You can hang back, I guess? And I’ll just ask him if he knows any escape routes,” said Message, talking more to himself than to Ghoul. “Yeah. Perfect plan. He knows I was going to break out anyway, so it won’t be weird.”

“Just as long as you can fuckin’ find this guy,” Ghoul grumbled. “Seriously, how long have we been out here?”

Message huffed. “Shut up, I actually figured out where he might be. We’re on our way now, just bear with me.”

“Whatever you say.”

Message kept leading, and Ghoul kept following, until they headed straight into the slums. Ghoul nodded with approval. If any part of Battery City was tolerable, it was the Lobby.

“See, this,” he said. “This is where you need to be. This is where shit _happens._ ”

“I know, I know,” Message said wearily. “I’m a stupid kid who doesn’t know how to rebel properly. I get it. But what’s the point in moving if I’m just going to leave the city?”

Ghoul considered this. “Fair point.” Message ducked into an alley, stopping at the end and knocking on a door that seemed to blend right into the wall. 

“This is Message Man,” he called out. “Is Killer King around?”

“That depends. Is there a good reason for him to be?” someone asked from inside. “For example, did somebody bring him free booze?”

Message rolled his eyes. “Come on, dude. I need your help with something.” He gestured to Ghoul, who took the hint and backed away. He stationed himself at the mouth of the alley, peering down to watch as a boy opened the door to Message.

“What’s shakin’, bacon?”

It took about two seconds for Ghoul to size the kid up. Message had pegged him as a tumbleweed, and it was clearly true. There was something in the way he held himself that hinted of the desert. A certain confidence, a puff in his chest, a lazy grin that curled at his lips. But his clothes were all black, and his hair was shaved in the trendiest way possible; he definitely frequented the city. He wore his lifestyle with pride, it didn’t take a genius to figure out. The next part was trickier. Ghoul didn’t trust him, not one bit, but it wasn’t exactly personal; he didn’t trust anyone. Message Man was the key. What made _him_ think this “Killer King” was trustworthy?

Ghoul zeroed in on their conversation. 

“So, you know all the stuff I’ve been getting up to lately,” Message said awkwardly. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “And I was thinking, maybe it’s time for me to get out of this place, y’know? Do you know any way I could do that?”

“Depends, are you gonna pay me?” said Killer, smirking.

“Sure. I’ll pay you with the knowledge that you’ve helped your friend,” said Message. “I dunno. Maybe. I have to see how things turn out.”

“It’s chill, I’m mostly kidding. Mostly. But, seriously,” Killer King tilted his head, “you really want to bust out?”

“Yeah, I do. Could you help me?”

“Can I help you? The fuck kind of zonerunner you think I am, of course I can help. Do you need to be out, like, as soon as possible, or is this just a pleasure trip we’re talkin’ about?”

“Uh… I think sooner is better.”

Killer nodded. “Gotcha. I might be able to figure something out in a week or so. But an expedited trip’ll take extra payment, sooo…” His eyes twinkled. “You got any bombs handy? I’m planning a little shindig that needs some extra firepower.”

Ghoul froze.

_Ripping the pin out of a grenade with one’s teeth was not something any sane human could manage. All you got was a mouthful of aching teeth and a decidedly un-detonated bomb. The first time Ghoul saw someone actually attempt it, he’d laughed out loud; then he’d tossed a grenade the_ proper _way and blown the idiot sky high._

_Explosions were sort of his thing. Kobra and Jet had their machines, fancy electro-gloves and souped-up ray guns, but Ghoul preferred the more direct methods, the blistering heat as the scraps of a Better Living truck blew into the air, the moment of anticipation before it all went_ boom. _After a while, it gave him a reputation._

_You didn’t fuck with the Fabulous Killjoys._

_Of course, he couldn’t rightfully claim to be the only reason people were scared of them. Poison and Kobra could be scary motherfuckers, and Jet was deadly if you got on his bad side. But Ghoul had definitely earned a name for himself. With every red wire he connected, the word traveled a little further, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little proud. He had finally found something with which to define himself._

For one fleeting moment, Ghoul considered stepping out of his hiding spot.

But he couldn’t. He could only grit his teeth and watch, hoping that Message knew, hoping that he’d make the connection. 

“Um,” said Message. “I think I can work something out, yeah.”

_Yes!_

It wasn’t a definitive answer, but it was good enough for Killer. He smiled. “Great! If not, just let me know, and I’ll have you hook me up with something else once you get out to the sands. Hell, you could join my network. Is that all you wanted?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Message said sheepishly.

“Sweet. Catch you later, then, I’ve got drugs to do.” Killer winked and slammed the door.

“He’s quite the character,” Ghoul murmured. Message turned around, grinning.

“Yeah, he is. What do you think?”

“I think he’s cocky, and I’m not sure he knows what he’s doing, but he’s all I’ve got,” said Ghoul. “So… Full speed ahead, I guess.”

Message nodded. “Now the only problem is where we find a bomb.”

Ghoul raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know where to get one?”

“I said _maybe,_ ” Message protested. “That wasn’t a lie, it’s totally true! I’m sure we can find something… somehow.”

Ghoul smirked.

“Well, kid, today’s your lucky day.”


	5. pills don't help but it sure is funny

Tyler wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he knew it was crazy.

For the past three hours, he’d been itching for a pill. He craved the familiar warmth, the peace, the security of medication; he _needed_ it. But every time he reached out to open the medicine cabinet, his hand would pause in mid-air.

Then he would back away and return to his bedroom.

Some cruel, masochistic part of him was denying him what he needed. He knew it was wrong. It was _so_ wrong, so twisted, but he couldn’t stop. Why couldn’t he stop? Why couldn’t he do what he always did, and act as a rational human being?

He just couldn’t stop wondering.

Tyler had seen people who didn’t take meds before, of course. Most often, they were on the news, being arrested for criminal activity. But occasionally, he’d see some odd individual walking around, and he would _know,_ just from the look in their eyes.

What was it like to be them? How could they possibly function without pills? To have so much emotion running rampant in one’s mind… It must have been uncomfortable. After less than a day, Tyler was already feeling jittery. Although, he wasn’t entirely sure the tremors was caused by anxiety alone. They just as well might have been a physical manifestation of his cravings.

But the discomfort wasn’t enough to make him stop. It wasn’t as if things could get any worse; BLI had already barred him from the future he wanted so desperately. How could they possibly punish him any more?

Tyler found himself staring in the bathroom mirror. If he just opened the cabinet, twisted the lid, swallowed, he would feel better. If he could only--

He paused, trembling fingers mere inches away from the handle. 

_No._

He lowered his hand. His reflection stared back at him from the mirror, looking guilty. 

_What’s wrong with me?_

***

Zack’s long shifts turned out to be a blessing in disguise. If he had been home, he would have noticed something was wrong. Tyler paced up and down the length of the apartment, fidgeting constantly. He’d called in sick for work; he had never done that before. Never. Why did he suddenly feel like he had lost control of his life?

Something powerful had gripped him, and it refused to let go. He wanted to know what it was like to go a day without popping a pill. At first, it had started as a casual thought, the sick kind of half-formed desire that one was never meant to acknowledge. But since then, it had grown. With every time he tried to give in, he found himself frozen. He was in too deep now. His brain, addled by chemical deprivation, simply would not allow him peace.

Tyler didn’t think he’d ever felt so terrified.

_Give up. Give up, take the pills, just do it. You’ll feel better, you’ll go back to normal._

_Give up. Stop taking them. Just give up, you’re never going to be normal._

The two halves of his mind battled back and forth. It felt like one of them was an outside influence, placed into his head by someone else, reflecting desires that were not his own. It wasn’t him. He wouldn’t think like that. 

The only problem was, Tyler couldn’t tell which part _was_ him.

God, his head ached.

He wanted to sleep. He wanted to drown in sweet artificial exhaustion, to fall into a dreamless void and let the silence take him over. He was so _tired._ But his hands were too shaky, his breathing too ragged; he couldn’t rest like this. It would only give him nightmares. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a nightmare.

Perhaps they came only while he was awake.

Moving around certainly felt like a dream; one second he was standing in the living room, but the next he was in the bathroom again, staring at his own reflection. One second he was pressing a palm to the window, trying and failing to hold it steady, and then his fingers had locked around the cap of his pill bottle. 

_I’m going crazy. That’s what this is, right?_

_I’m crazy. You’re crazy._

Tyler raised one finger to the mirror, dragging it down against the glass and leaving a smudged fingerprint. 

_You and I, we’re just a fever dream._

For a second, he thought he saw a flash of red in his reflection’s eyes.

_None of this was ever real._

Tyler blinked hard. When had the room started spinning?

_Make a choice. You can break them, or bend to their will, but you can never close your eyes. They’ll always be open wide. Trying to sleep won’t do anything; you’re already dreaming. It’s not a matter of reality. It’s a matter of sight. Which side do you see things from? Can you feel yourself going blind?_

_Wake up and smell the chemicals, Tyler. Feel that concentrated acid flooding your lungs to burn the corruption, kill the cancer, exterminate the weaknesses in your mind. Isn’t that what you want? Just burn your future and inhale the smoke; smile through the ashes, laugh at everything you’ve lost. It’s gone, Tyler. Do you want it back? Or do you want to burn along with it?_

Tyler’s hand pressed harder against the glass. His reflection stared back at him, eyes burning scarlet. 

_You’re made of stone. You can’t burn, not even if you want to. You crack, you crumble, you fall into dust, but you can never burn._

_What does it feel like to split in two?_

Tyler’s reflection opened its mouth.

_”You should know the answer,”_ it whispered. _”It’s already beginning.”_

Tyler barely felt himself move before the bottle was open, bitter capsules on his tongue, down, gone, swallowed, _over._

He scrubbed a hand across the mirror. His sweaty palm left a smudge, but it couldn’t hide the flicker of red that lingered for just a moment before his eyes snapped back to their typical brown.

It didn’t matter. The heat was settling over him already, soothing the tremors that wracked his body. He could forget it all now, everything except the aftertaste of pills in his mouth. Everything was fine now. He was normal, he was happy, he was free.

He barely even noticed when his knees buckled, barely felt the ache as his head collided with the linoleum floor. He really did need to stop falling over. If he wasn’t careful, he’d mess himself up even worse than he already had.

If it weren’t for those stupid rebels, he might have turned out fine. 

The last thing Tyler saw before he lost consciousness was a boy in a pink bandana, torchlight reflecting from his eyes, reaching out to help him up.

***

Tyler couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this good. His head felt fuzzy, somehow, like it was stuffed full of cotton, and his skin tingled in a way that definitely wasn’t unpleasant. His brain felt disconnected from his body, like he was floating. It was a little dizzying, but Tyler didn’t mind.

At least, not until he sat up and vomited directly into the toilet.

But he still didn’t feel too bad.

He struggled to his feet, clinging to the counter for balance. When he peered up at his reflection, he couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped his mouth. His cheeks were flushed bright red, his eyes shining; he was grinning like an idiot. He didn’t look down as he washed his hands. Judging by how much he’d turned the handle, the water should have been scalding, but it didn’t feel any warmer than his own skin. He poured himself a glass of it and gulped it down.

What had he been doing? It felt like he should be doing something. He should be at work, right? Or, no, wait, he’d called in sick. Why had he done that? He felt fantastic.

Tyler combed his fingers through his hair, then headed for the door.

If he had felt warm inside, outside, it was _hot._ Walking down the street felt like wading through a pot of boiling water. Tyler’s movements were sluggish; he couldn’t seem to take more than a few steps without pausing to marvel at how beautiful the city was. God, he loved this place. Everything was so wonderful. 

The barest trace of a frown flitted across Tyler’s face. Why couldn’t everyone see the city the same way he did? Juviehalls, rebels, they were all so foolish. They could never hope to oppose the power that was BLI, and anyway, why would they want to? They must have had a fundamental misunderstanding of how things worked.

Tyler didn’t realize he had started walking in the opposite direction until he passed by his apartment once more.

It was okay, though. He was doing something good. He was going to find that boy, Message Man, no, Josh, and show him how very wrong he was about BLI.

He didn’t know exactly where to look, but he was sure he’d figure something out.

The last time Tyler had seen Josh, it hadn’t been very far from his own apartment. That meant he had to be nearby, right? Tyler would just have to wander around until they found each other.

“Message Man?” he said tentatively. No, no one would hear him like that. He repeated himself, louder this time. After a few minutes, he was stumbling down the street at a quicker pace, yelling the name every few seconds.

“Message Man! Message?”

He tripped and fell to the ground, but pushed himself right back up.

“Josh?” he shouted.

The plain white buildings and complexes around him were silent.

“Josh?” he tried again, looking all around.

Tyler had just started walking again when he heard the footsteps behind him; alternating slaps against the pavement, running closer, stopping at his back. He whipped around, beaming. “Josh!” 

Josh stood a few feet away. His bandana had been tied sloppily, and the visible part of his face was filled with… Tyler didn’t know what to call it. Incredulity, perhaps?

“What are you _doing?”_ Josh hissed. “You can’t just go around yelling my name like that, you’ll get us both caught!”

“But, y’see,” Tyler said plaintively. “You wouldn’t have to worry if you just stopped. Stop doing things, y’know? The bad stuff, stop it. Everything’s so pretty, why don’t you get it, why can’t you just stop? Everything would be so--”

“Tyler,” Josh interrupted, looking concerned now. “Are you okay?”

Tyler’s eyes widened. “Oh, I’m _great!_ I’m amazing. I’m _so good,_ you don’t even know. It’s, it’s like I’m flying.”

“Tyler,” Josh repeated. He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. “You look… really out of it. What happened?”

Tyler giggled. “Nothing! I just made a mistake, I made a big mistake. I fixed it, though. Everything’s much Better now. Did you know that if you turn hot water on, you can’t feel it? That’s crazy! I can’t really feel my legs, either, but it feels _good._ ”

“What are you talking about?”

“What am I talking about? I…” Tyler faltered. “Everything. I’m talking about _everything,_ Josh. ‘Cause they have it all, don’t they? You’ve gotta just give up, see, and then you’re theirs, and they protect you, and they make you feel all floaty--”

Josh froze.

Then he grabbed Tyler by the shoulders. “How many pills?” he demanded. “Jesus, Tyler, what did you do? It’s like you’re getting in trouble every time I turn my back! How many freaking pills did you take?”

Tyler laughed. “I dunno. It was a _lot._ I’ve still got some left, though, you can have ‘em.”

“No,” said Josh, frustrated. “I’m not taking your stupid pills. Come on, you’re coming with me.”

“No! We have to go to my house, we have to get them,” Tyler protested. “I need to-- I need to _fix you._ ”

“You need help,” said Josh. “I don’t know why you keep coming back to me, but I’m not going to leave you out here to have a heart attack or something. Follow me.”

“But-- but I’ve got all the help I need! You’re the one who needs me, why,” Tyler frowned, “why won’t you let me help you?” He slapped Josh’s hands away. “You don’t get it. Battery City’s so, it’s so great, why would you fight it? Why would you _do that?_ ” The last words came out as a snarl.

For a second, Josh almost looked scared.

Tyler cocked his head to the side.

“Why would you fight a battle you’re destined to lose?” he said softly. He didn’t recognize the words coming from his own mouth, nor the voice that spoke them. It sounded… wrong. Lower than it should have; too sinister. It was like a stranger was speaking through him. 

“You could just quit, you know. Things would be easier. You wouldn’t have to perform anymore. You wouldn’t need to pretend to be someone you’re not, walking around this place in a mask, acting as if you’re just like everyone else. This city is your stage, but it doesn’t need to be. Just stop pretending.” He lurched forward, grabbing onto Josh’s shirt. 

“Don’t go back onstage,” he whispered. 

“I’m sorry,” Josh whispered back. “But you’re seriously freaking me out.” His fist whipped back, then forward to collide with Tyler’s eye.

Tyler was really getting tired of being knocked unconscious. 

But just for a moment, before the blackness overtook him, he thought he caught a glimpse of someone; a faded figure in the background.

_”You don’t have a chance,”_ it whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _istarttoparttwohalvesofmyheartinthedarkandidontknowwhereishouldgoandthetearsandthefearsbegintomulTIPLY_
> 
> at this point our poor local bean is pretty out of it and has no idea where his loyalties lie-- take a closer look at blurryface's sections and you'll see that he could be negatively referring to either the killjoys OR bli.
> 
> poor confused bean.
> 
> more to come next chapter! :D


	6. give us more detonation

Ghoul was known for quite a lot of things, but self-control wasn’t one of them. It was a miracle that he didn’t haul off and punch Message straight in the face when he came down the stairs carrying an unconscious boy.

“Who the fuck is that,” Ghoul seethed, “why is he knocked out, and why the _fuck_ are you dragging someone in here after I specifically told you no one could know about me? What part of ‘discovery will get us killed’ did you not understand?”

“Shut up,” said Message.

Ghoul blinked.

“Excuse--”

“How much do you know about suppressants?” Message interrupted. “Is it possible to overdose on them? What happens if you do?”

“I… Uh, I guess it’s possible. I’ve never heard of it happening, though. Usually the people taking them are-- hey, wait,” Ghoul bristled, “I wasn’t done chewing you out, asshole!”

“Save it. This is Tyler,” Message said, pointing to the boy who was now slumped on the floor. “He’s the one I told you about before, and he’s either overdosed or freaking possessed, I don’t know. Something’s wrong. How do we help him?”

“Oh. Tyler. Right,” Ghoul said, forcing a laugh. “No, sure I’ll help, I’d better drop everything. What the _fuck,_ Message? I seem to remember telling you not to get mixed up in this kid’s issues. You brought a fucking addict in here? And you want me to _help_ him?”

“It’s either that or he dies!” Message snapped. “Cut the crap and just help me out, okay? What are we supposed to do?”

Ghoul’s eyes burned with fury, but he knelt down just the same, pressing a finger to Tyler’s neck. There was still a pulse, albeit a rather sluggish one. “How long has he been out?”

“I, uh,” said Message. “I sort of punched him?”

Ghoul looked at him incredulously. “You did _what?_ ”

“He was acting crazy!” Message said defensively. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was on ritalin, that’s how bad it was.”

“How do you know he’s not?”

“I just… I don’t know, he’s not that type of person.”

Ghoul sighed. “Do you even know him?”

“Well… Not really, but that’s not the point. It wasn’t normal, the way he was acting. His voice was all weird, and,” Message grimaced, “his eyes were red, Ghoul, they were freaking _red._ The irises. Not the whites.”

Ghoul looked down at Tyler. “That’s not possible. And you shouldn’t have punched him out, dude. You never let somebody on that many drugs go to sleep. It just increases the chances that they won’t wake up.”

“I-- wait, what?” Message’s eyes widened with fear. “Oh, crap. Crap. What do we do?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t really dealt with this before. I’ve got some ideas, though.” Ghoul rolled Tyler onto his side. “BLI’s pills slow everything down. If we had a shot of adrenaline, maybe we could give him that, but I kinda doubt that’s something you’ve got handy.” He tilted Tyler’s head back, glancing up at Message. “Well? Are you going to help?”

“Yeah! Tell me what to do.” Message dropped down beside Tyler. 

“Okay, keep his mouth open,” Ghoul instructed. “Head back , like that, yeah. I’m gonna move his legs.”

“His legs?” said Message, puzzled. “Why?”

“I don’t know! I’m just doing what Jet always did, I’m no medic,” Ghoul said, frustrated. He tugged Tyler’s knee up to a right angle. “We just have to wait until he wakes up, I think, and then we can go from there.”

Message looked down at Tyler, guilt pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Ghoul watched him for a minute before sighing. “It’s not your fault.” Comforting people wasn’t really his thing, but he couldn’t stand Message sitting there looking miserable. It was just making him uncomfortable. “If he was dumb enough to overdose, that’s his problem, not yours. At least you were decent enough to try and help.”

“I guess.” Message tentatively reached out to poke Tyler’s side. He didn’t move. “Is there anything else we can do for him?”

“Nah. We can’t force anything down his throat, he’d just choke on it. Can’t make him throw up for the same reason. Slapping him awake is a no-go, and we can’t really do anything else to try and get him up, so… We just have to wait.”

“And you say you’re not a medic.”

Ghoul shrugged. “I’m not. I told you, I’m just copying what I’ve seen. Most of the time, I was the one who got knocked out, burns or cuts or my stupid fucking lungs, I was always getting hurt. Jet would…” His throat went dry.

He still didn’t like thinking about the killjoys.

“I just paid attention, that’s all,” he said finally. 

“I’m glad you did.” Message pursed his lips, still not looking up from Tyler’s sleeping form. “I’ll stay and watch him, if you want. You’ve got a bomb to work on.”

“Yeah. Tell me as soon as anything changes, okay?” Message nodded. Ghoul stood up, rubbing his eyes. This wasn’t how he had imagined his day playing out. If it had gone the way he wanted, it would’ve involved a lot more wiring, and a lot less drugged-up kids.

Escaping sounded really good right about now.

Working with explosives was relaxing; it allowed Ghoul to put all his energy into the tiny details until everything else faded into background noise. If he wasn’t precise, the bomb might not go off, or worse, detonate incorrectly.

He’d had bad experiences with faulty detonation.

But he’d learned from them, and by now, he could rig an explosion that’d blow a killjoy’s hat off their head without ever touching them. He was fucking awesome, and no, he did not possess an ounce of modesty, thank you very much. Ghoul wasn’t one to downplay his skills. He had a hard enough time finding anything about himself that he liked, so he wasn’t about to keep those rare virtues quiet.

Ghoul retreated to a far corner of the basement, rifling through the supplies Message had retrieved for him. Killer King hadn’t specified what type of bomb he was interested in. Ghoul would probably just whip up a few standard grenades-- if they weren’t good enough for Killer, he could go choke on a stick of dynamite. Fun Ghoul was going to get out of Battery City, leaving a trail of shrapnel in his wake, and no stuck-up tumbleweed was going to get in his way.

He was just starting to piece the first grenade together when it hit him.

_”Fun Ghoul?”_

_The Girl hugged her knees to her chest. Her face was hidden behind a mass of curly hair, but Ghoul could tell she had been crying. Her voice was thick, and her shoulders shook with every shallow breath she drew. “Where are you? Can you hear me?”_

_He tried to speak, but when he opened his mouth, no sound came out._

_The Girl pressed her face to her knees. “I keep trying,” she said, her voice muffled. “But you never hear. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. They’ve had me here so long, Ghoul, I… Please. If you can hear me, please, I need help.”_

_Something about her seemed different from the last time Ghoul had seen her. She took up too much space; she had grown. She was older. Age had not been kind to her; it had stolen her spark, and Ghoul couldn’t think of something he hated more than the helplessness in her voice. He was going to find whoever had done this to her and make them pay._

_”I don’t think it’s working the way it’s supposed to. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I never know… God, I just want you back.” The Girl hugged her knees tighter, sobbing quietly into them. “I miss you. I miss you and Poison and Jet and Kobra, I need you here, but… I can’t let anything happen to you.”_

_Ghoul’s heart ached._

_”Don’t be stupid,” he whispered. “It’s not your job to protect us. It’s supposed to be the other way around.”_

_The Girl’s head snapped up._

_”Ghoul?” she whispered, eyes wide._

Ghoul stared at the wires in his hands.

_What the fuck?_

He had been trying so hard not to think about the killjoys, but all his progress had just been thrown out the window. What _was_ that? A hallucination? It couldn’t have been, the Girl had _heard_ him. Unless he had imagined that, too, out of sheer desperation for her to be alive… He wanted her to be alive so badly. She was all he had left. If there was even the slightest chance she was alive, Ghoul wanted to embrace it, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t get his hopes up. Not after he had seen Poison get shot in the neck, not after Kobra had leapt forth in a last-ditch effort to save him and been knocked to the ground…

Fuck. 

He was in too deep now. He couldn’t stop it. For every second he didn’t shove the memories away, they sunk a little deeper, a knife twisting between his lungs. He wanted to shrink into a ball and hide from the world; he couldn’t bear a reality in which he’d been left all alone. _Fuck._ It was all sinking in. He had to get away somehow.

Poison had promised he wouldn’t let anything happen. He’d fucking _promised,_ even though he was a hypocrite; Ghoul knew for a fact that he was terrified of losing his family. He fed Ghoul exactly what he wanted to hear, and, like an idiot, Ghoul had bought it. He’d actually believed that things might turn out okay. For once in his life, he had believed that he might not get screwed over. He’d allowed his hopes to grow beyond constraint, and now he was paying for it. The weight of every broken dream was crushing him.

_”How do you do it?” Ghoul whispered. “How can you be so sure things will work out?”_

_Poison rested his head on top of Ghoul’s. “I dunno,” he whispered back. “I’m always worried. But when I look at you, it makes me feel stronger, I guess. I’ll do everything it takes to make sure you’re safe.”_

_”That’s what I’m scared of. You’re just going to get yourself dusted if you keep thinking like that, stupid, you can’t put my safety over yours.”_

_”I won’t get dusted, Ghoul.”_

_”How do you know?”_

_”Because it would hurt you. And I want to make sure you never get hurt again.”_

Ghoul cursed and dropped his screwdriver, scrubbing his hands over his eyes. He couldn’t do this. Everything inside him hurt, from his stinging eyes to the sharp pain deep within his ribs; he had to forget about it. Poison always told him not to bottle his emotions, that it could never end well, but Poison wasn’t fucking there, and Ghoul didn’t see how things could get any worse.

“Hey, Ghoul?” called Message.

“What is it?” said Ghoul, hating how weak his voice sounded. 

“Tyler’s up.”

Shit. He had to pull himself together. Ghoul took a few deep breaths, willing his heart to stop beating so fast, then padded back over to Message. Tyler had sat up, and was holding a hand to his forehead.

“Where am I?” he asked, disoriented. “What happened?”

“You’re safe,” said Message. “I think you might have overdosed. You were wandering around looking for me. You found me, obviously. I brought you to my apartment. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine...” Tyler blinked hard. “Wait. Did you just say I overdosed?”

“Yeah, dude. You were pretty messed up.”

Tyler looked genuinely shocked at this. “I don’t remember. I was just at home, and then I woke up here.”

“That’s probably a good thing,” said Josh. “You said some, uh... creepy stuff. That I needed to be ‘fixed,’ or something.”

“Oh, God,” Tyler groaned, hiding his face. “I’m sorry.”

“It was probably the pills talking,” said Ghoul. “BLI designs them to make sure withdrawal sets in fast. You go longer than a day without them, and you start hallucinating. Makes you want to get right back on them.” Tyler seemed to notice him for the first time.

“Oh, hi. Are you the one from before?” Tyler squinted. “No, you aren’t. Your hair is different.”

“That’s Ghoul,” Message said helpfully. 

Ghoul gave him a look.

“Nevermind!” Message said hastily. “Didn’t say anything, didn’t say anything at all. Crap. Sorry.”

Ghoul rolled his eyes, then slunk back to the corner of the room. Message could deal with Tyler on his own. Talking to them would just piss Ghoul off, and frankly, he didn’t have enough energy to be mad. He just wanted to sleep. Pain was still shooting through his body and mind alike, and he didn’t know how to escape it other than to let it fade into the sweet blackness of sleep. 

As long as he didn’t have nightmares, he’d be fine.

But he probably wouldn’t be so lucky. He never was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woah we're on chapter 6 already?? crazy


	7. when the lights go out, will you take me with you?

Tyler didn’t remember seeking out Josh. He vaguely remembered going off his pills, but after that, it all turned to a blur. He would just have to take Josh’s word on what had happened. Apparently, he had overdosed, wandered around the neighborhood yelling nonsense, then woken up in the safety of Josh’s apartment. It wasn’t difficult to believe. The aching pains in Tyler’s head and stomach made for suitable proof.

Someone in his position should have felt scared, but for some reason, he wasn’t.

Tyler didn’t know when, but somewhere along the road, he’d started to trust Josh. Maybe it was because Josh kept helping him even though he didn’t need to. Maybe it was just because Josh was _there._ But whatever the reason, Tyler was content to sit there in his basement, listening to Josh talk. He would have felt perfectly calm if it weren’t for the fact that he was having a minor existential crisis. 

Tyler didn’t know what he was supposed to think. Until this moment, he had lived his life accepting BLI as some sort of divine power, as if they held the key to happiness. But now his gut was telling him to listen to Josh, and Josh was saying quite the opposite.

“It felt like learning how to breathe for the first time,” Josh was saying, a dreamy expression on his face. “And that was _before_ I heard music. Music’s so amazing, I’ve gotta play some for you soon. It’ll help you get off the medication. You’ve just gotta take it slow, wean yourself off, not let the withdrawal hit too hard…”

“Um,” said Tyler. “You say that like you know I’m going to go off my pills.”

Josh frowned. “You aren’t? Even after everything you’ve seen?” 

“Uh…” Josh looked so disappointed, Tyler found himself backtracking. “I dunno,” he said hesitantly. “Maybe. I mean, it’s a lot to take in, you know? Pills are… I thought they were the best thing that’d ever happened to me.”

“We all felt that way, but it’s just not true. I think you could get past it if you tried. Don’t you want to give it a try?” Josh said hopefully.

“Maybe, yeah.” Tyler shrugged. “It’s kind of scary, though.”

“I know. But I can help you!” Josh was getting excited. “I’ll play you my music, show you all the stuff you need to know. You could join my crew once I get out into the desert!”

Tyler’s eyes widened. The desert? That was taking things a little far. He still wasn’t sure he wanted to get clean, much less leave Battery City. “You’re breaking out?”

“Yeah. Ghoul’s gonna help me.” Josh pointed to the man in the corner. He hadn’t moved since Josh had first introduced him. The shadows of the basement wrapped around him like a cloak, hiding him from the prying eyes of Tyler and Josh.

“Is he okay?” Tyler whispered. 

“Ghoul? Uh…” Josh squinted over at him. “Honestly, I’m not sure. Reading him is kinda tricky. And it’s not like he would tell me if he was having issues, I just met him a few days ago. He thinks I’m an idiot. We’ve got a sort of exchange going on, though; I let him stay here, he helps me get out. Or, at least, I think that’s how he sees it. I’d rather have him as a friend, but… like I said. He doesn't think too highly of me.”

“I don’t think he likes me, either,” said Tyler.

Josh laughed. “It’s nothing personal. I’m pretty sure he hates everyone.”

“But, I mean… I don’t think he’d want me in your crew,” Tyler explained. “So I couldn’t join even if I wanted to.” Having an excuse was a relief. He didn’t want to disappoint Josh by turning him down, but at the same time, he couldn’t say he was ready to leap out into the desert. 

“Oh! Don’t worry, he’s not part of my crew,” Josh said brightly. “He’s got his own.”

Tyler’s heart sank. There went his excuse. 

“Are you fucking stupid?” Ghoul growled from the corner. Tyler jumped. He hadn’t realized Ghoul was awake. “My crew is _dead._ But you’re right, I wouldn’t run with you anyway.”

“Are they really dead?” Josh asked, surprised. “But… how are you alive, then? I just thought--”

“I don’t know,” Ghoul snapped. “I thought I _was_ dead. BLI must have kept me alive for some reason. As for why they dumped me in the middle of the city with no supervision, I have no fucking clue. So don’t ask. And _don’t_ talk about them.”

Tyler looked at Josh questioningly. 

Ghoul sighed. “Great. I just had to open my mouth… Go ahead and explain, Message. I don’t care.” He turned over so his back was facing them.

Josh looked at him hesitantly for a few minutes before speaking. He beckoned Tyler close.

“Fun Ghoul was part of a group of killjoys called the Fabulous Four,” he whispered. “They were, like, famous. I’m kinda surprised you haven’t heard of them. They were killed a few years ago, it was all over the news. Or… most of them were killed. Ghoul survived somehow. But the others are gone. It’s a bit of a touchy subject.”

Tyler raised his eyebrows. He wasn’t sure how to react to that. It was no secret that killjoys often met bloody ends, but he had never considered the reality of it all. He rested his chin in his hands, staring into the shadowy corner that concealed Fun Ghoul. Tyler couldn't help but feel bad for him.

These were _people_ who were being killed by BLI. They had families, they had feelings; they had hearts that could be broken just like anyone else’s.

“I don't know how I’d bear something like that,” Tyler whispered.

“Yeah.” Josh looked sadly over at Ghoul.

“I can feel you pitying me,” said Ghoul, his voice muffled. “Cut it out.”

Tyler would’ve found it easier to obey if Ghoul didn’t sound so utterly miserable. Ghoul might have been invisible in the darkness, but the shaky sound of his breathing was a dead giveaway.

Something buzzed in Tyler’s pocket, and he startled violently before realizing it was only his phone. He took a deep breath to calm himself before pulling it out.

Jenna was calling.

For the first time ever, he found himself hesitating before hitting _accept._ What would he say? Jenna didn’t even know about his application. The thought of telling her about it, how he had been denied, and the shameful way he had reacted… It made his skin crawl. But maybe she would understand. Maybe if he just explained what had happened… 

He accepted the call.

“Tyler! I’ve been calling and calling, why didn't you answer? Zack said you didn't come home last night--”

“Hey, hey, slow down,” said Tyler. “I’m okay. I’m with a friend.”

“What happened?”

“I…” Tyler hesitated. He didn't want to lie to her, but it wasn't the right time to tell the whole truth. “It's not something I want to say on the phone. Do you think we could meet later?”

“Of course,” said Jenna. “Tyler, are you sure you're okay? You sound sick.”

“I’m fine. I’ll swing by your house later to explain, I promise.” Tyler paused. For a moment, he was tempted to blurt out something affectionate, but to do so would break the floodgates and end with him telling her everything. It wasn't the right time. “Take care of yourself,” he said instead. “Bye, Jenna. See you soon.”

“You too, Tyler.”

He ended the call with a sigh.

“Is that her?” Josh asked. “The girl? I remember you saying something about a girl, that time I saw you at the store.”

Tyler winced. “Uh, yeah. That’s her. Jenna. She’s…” He stared down at his phone.

“She’s the reason I can’t leave,” he said, realizing as soon as the words came out of his mouth that they were the truth. He couldn’t leave Jenna behind. No matter how strangely tempting the desert was, his heart lay with her in Battery City. If he had never known her, he might have considered it, but then again, if he had never known her, he wouldn’t be in this situation. 

He couldn’t just leave without her.

Josh grinned. “You love her.” It wasn’t a question. Tyler blushed furiously.

“No! I mean, not _no_ , I mean, um, if I was allowed to--”

“Listen,” Josh laughed. “BLI doesn’t have to give you permission. If you love her, you love her. And if she feels the same way, she won’t care about what the company says. I mean… _you_ don’t care. Do you?”

“I…” Tyler thought it over. Did he really care what BLI said? Technically, he shouldn’t have entertained a single romantic thought for Jenna before his application was accepted, but he had done so anyway, secretly imagining the times they’d have together. And when he had been denied, he certainly didn’t accept it the way he was meant to. Quite frankly, he had gone off the deep end. He had allowed himself to feel the pain of disappointment, temporarily rejected his medication, and to top it all off, he was now sitting in a juviehall’s basement.

This type of situation was precisely why BLI preferred to regulate romantic relationships. Love was a powerful emotion, and if it was allowed to run rampant, the casualties could be enormous. Love could turn the smartest men to fools, or drive them mad. 

It could even make Tyler throw away the rules he’d taken so seriously his entire life.

“No,” he said. “I really don’t care what they say, actually. I want to be with her.” Saying it out loud sent a little thrill down his spine.

“That’s the first step,” Josh said eagerly. “Do you see how stupid it all is? I mean, it’s not just the rules about love. _All_ the rules are unnecessary. I mean, think about it. Why shouldn’t we make art? Why shouldn’t we ask questions? What gives them the right to control us?”

Tyler held up a hand. He was still thinking, mulling over the idea that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t need BLI’s permission to feel.

Tyler had always accepted the company as a savior, a protector. It had never even occurred to him that they didn’t have the right to control _everything._

“Maybe you’re right,” he said out loud. “But… I can’t leave the city. Not while Jenna’s here.”

“Take her with you,” Josh suggested.

Tyler raised his eyebrows. That hadn’t occurred to him, either. Josh had said if Jenna loved him, she wouldn’t care what BLI had to say… With some surprise, he found that he wanted that to be true. He wanted her to be just as crazy as he was. He wanted her to understand, to make him feel like he wasn’t out of his mind for considering this.

When it finally sunk in that he valued her opinion much more than BLI’s, he had to close his eyes for a minute, taking deep breaths.

“I get it,” he murmured. “I think… I think I get it, Josh. Why you rebel.”

“Really?” asked Josh, his eyes sparkling. “That’s awesome! You should talk to Jenna. If you like her, I’m sure she’s cool. I wouldn’t mind having her as a crewmate.”

Tyler pushed himself to his feet. The movement made his head swim, and he had to stumble to the wall, bracing his hand against it for balance. 

“Hey, careful,” said Josh, concerned. “You’re still sick. Hold on, I’ll get you some water.” He jogged up the stairs and vanished through the door. Tyler focused his gaze on the floor, willing to room to stop spinning. When Josh came back down, he was still there, not moving a muscle for fear of aggravating his injury once more.

“Y’know,” Josh said thoughtfully. “You might be concussed. I’ve hit you in the head a couple times.”

“You’re figuring this out now?” Tyler said weakly. He cautiously turned to face Josh, steeling himself against the nausea, but it didn’t come. Josh handed him a glass of water, which he took a grateful sip of. He hadn’t realized how dehydrated he was. Despite how his stomach protested, he drained half the glass in under a minute.

“Hey, Ghoul?” said Josh. “You know anything about head injuries?”

There came a noncommittal grunt from the end of the basement.

“Do you think you could check Tyler out?” Josh tried again.

Ghoul heaved a sigh, and Tyler heard the rustle of movement before he came into the light and approached them. “How many fingers am I holding up?” he said, raising a hand.

“Um, five,” said Tyler.

“You got a headache?”

“Yeah.”

“Does light or noise bother you at all? Difficulty concentrating? Dizziness, blurry vision, numbness anywhere?” Ghoul asked, sounding bored.

“Um…” Tyler blinked. “I don’t know. I’m feeling pretty nauseous. I don’t know about noise, though.”

Ghoul slammed his hand into the wall, and Tyler startled at the sound. “Oh! God,” he said, cringing. “Yeah, that hurt.”

“What about the other stuff?” Ghoul asked, looking pleased with himself.

Tyler shrugged. “I think I’m okay. I can feel my toes and everything, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Cool. You might have a minor concussion, but then again, you did just take a near-lethal amount of drugs. You could be fine. Don’t go banging your head against the wall or anything, though.” 

“I won’t.” Tyler glanced up the stairs. “I, uh… I should probably go. I have to talk to Jenna.”

Ghoul gave him a once-over, frowning slightly. “That’s your girl, huh?” Tyler nodded. “Mmm. Well, if she convinces you to leave the city, she’s a keeper. Otherwise… She might get you thrown in jail. You realize how risky it is to talk about all this, right?”

“Of course,” said Tyler. It was a terrifying thought. He was risking it all on the hopes that Jenna would understand, but if she didn’t, if she sided with BLI, things could go downhill very quickly. Tyler might never walk free again, much less escape to the zones.

“Good. And you’d better not breathe a word about my presence,” said Ghoul, his eyes narrowing. “You might be ignorant enough to not know who I am, but I hope you’re not stupid enough to let it slip. If BLI gets wind of this, me and your buddy here are both ghosted.” He jerked a thumb at Josh. “Got it?”

Tyler held out his hand. “I won’t tell.”

Ghoul rolled his eyes, looking as though he might push Tyler’s hand away, but gave it a brief shake in the end. “Fine. Go on, get out of here.”

“Good luck,” Josh said earnestly. “I hope you come back. You know where to find me now, so, if you decide city life isn’t for you, I’ll be right here.”

Tyler smiled. “Thanks.”

He had arrived at a fork in the road. The path he chose would determine his entire future. The city or the desert, safety or love? He didn’t know which he would choose; it was still too early for him to make a decision.

But it was nice to know that a friendly face was waiting on one side.

***

Tyler waited on the front porch, the doorbell echoing a faint _bing-bong_ somewhere inside. There was a minute of silence. He shivered, rubbing his arms a little. He’d taken a pill before he came, but it was a smaller dosage than he was used to, and he didn’t feel as warm as usual. A pair of footsteps sounded from inside, and he managed to put on a smile just in time before the door swung open.

Jenna flung herself into his arms without hesitation. “Tyler! I’ve been so worried about you, why didn’t you come sooner?”

“Sorry,” he said, hugging her tightly. “A lot’s been going on. Can I come in?”

“Of course you can. Feel free to stay as long as you want, I, um, made hot chocolate.” She smiled shyly and backed through the doorway, shutting the door after Tyler. As she turned her back and headed for the living room, Tyler couldn’t help but stare after her, eyes soft with affection.

“Well?” she said, her head popping back into view. “Are you coming?”

“Yeah!” he said, hastening forward. Jenna flopped down onto the couch, grabbing a steaming mug of hot cocoa from the coffee table. An additional mug sat next to it. Tyler wrapped his hands around it and sat down, savoring the heat that washed over his palms.

“So,” Jenna said carefully, taking a sip. “What happened to you?”

Tyler paused. There was so much to say, he wasn’t sure where to begin.

He decided to start with the most important part.

“What would you say if I…” 

_Just say it._

Tyler averted his eyes, his cheeks now as hot as his palms. There was a reason he had never told Jenna how he felt about her. He was horribly awkward, and now, during his grand confession, he was collapsing into a nervous mess. His heart thudded against his ribs. He felt like a middle schooler all over again, except when he had been in middle school, no silly crush could have life-altering consequences. 

“What would you say if I applied to be your boyfriend?” he blurted.

Jenna’s eyes widened, and her mouth formed a perfect little ‘o’ shape as her cheeks tinted pink. For a moment, she was speechless. Tyler’s heart nearly stopped. But then she smiled, her face lit up like a christmas tree, and he couldn’t do anything but beam back at her a she reached for his hand.

“Tyler,” she said quietly. “I would _love_ that.”

_And now for the bad news._

Perhaps Tyler had picked the wrong way to start his story.

“I went to the application office a little while ago,” he said hesitantly. She nodded, staring up at him with round eyes. 

“They didn’t accept me,” he mumbled.

Jenna looked crestfallen.

“Oh. I… Oh. Okay,” she said, drawing away from Tyler. He grabbed onto her hand, holding her in place.

“Wait,” he said. “What do you think about that? Please, I need you to tell me. What do you really, honestly think?” 

Jenna bit her lip. “I… I don’t know. I’ve been waiting for you to apply for a long time, I… Well, it was obvious that we both had feelings for each other. I just sort of assumed we’d end up together. Without that… I don’t know what to think.”

“What if I told you we could still be together?” Tyler said quietly. 

Jenna eyed him curiously. “What do you mean?”

Tyler sighed. “The night I submitted my application, I almost missed curfew. I had to run home, and I ran into these two guys, rebels. I, um… fell over and hit my head. They took me home, though… And then the day I got denied, I started feeling really, really bad.” He looked away from Jenna, not wanting to see the concern, or worse, disgust he might find written on her face. “I ran into them again. I was panicking, and they helped me. One of them, his name is J-- uh, Message Man, he’s actually pretty nice.”

“Tyler,” Jenna said worriedly. “This isn’t going where I think it’s going, is it?”

“Please, just hear me out,” he said, keeping his voice as level as possible. “After I got denied, I started thinking. Do I really want a future that doesn’t have you in it? It hurt so much to think about, Jen, you have no idea. I was so busy thinking, my head was so scrambled… I didn’t take my pills.” He cringed at the words. It felt embarrassing to say them out loud, like he was revealing a dirty secret. “And it was bad. After a while, it got to be too much, and I took a whole bunch. Overdosed. I don’t remember what happened, really, but when I woke up, I was with Message Man. He…” Tyler took a deep breath. “He offered to take me out of the city.”

“Tyler,” Jenna whispered.

“And he offered to bring you with us.”

Jenna shook her head slowly. “Overdosing… That’s not like you, Tyler. You said you don’t remember what happened, how do you know this guy wasn’t the one who hurt you? Running into him so many times seems suspicious, if you ask me.”

“He’s not like that,” said Tyler. “Please, just let me introduce you. You’ll see. He’s actually nice, way nicer than I thought a juviehall could be.”

Jenna buried her face in her hands, groaning softly. “A juviehall. God, you made friends with a juviehall. What have you gotten yourself into?”

“Don’t say that,” Tyler pleaded. “Think about it, Jen. Why should it matter what they say? I… I really, _really_ like you, and I think we should have the chance to explore something new. Can you honestly tell me that you don’t want that?”

“If BLI said no, then…” Jenna shook her head helplessly. “Then it’s just not meant to be.”

Tyler flinched as if he had been slapped.

“Why is that their decision? I thought you… Okay. I’m sorry. I thought you felt the same way. I’m sorry, I should go.” He set his mug on the table, standing as quickly as he could. “Please don’t tell anyone about this. I understand if you don’t want to throw your life away for me, really, I do. But I would appreciate if you didn’t throw away mine, either.”

He looked at her for a moment, biting his lip to keep it from trembling.

“Bye, Jen. Sorry for dragging you into this.” He beat a hasty retreat to the door, pulling it open and stepping outside, oblivious to the wind that blew straight through him. Being denied by BLI was one thing.

Being rejected was something else entirely.

Tyler was hurrying down the walkway, eyes stinging, when he heard the door open behind him.

“Wait!” Jenna called. She dashed up to Tyler and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. He relaxed into her grip, and time slowed to a standstill, the two of them frozen in one comfortable moment.

“This is a lot to take in,” Jenna murmured. “I should be reporting you. This isn’t right, Tyler, everything I know is telling me that.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Jenna shushed him. “No. Don’t say that, you’re not the one who should apologize.” She drew back, her blue eyes piercing straight through Tyler. “I can’t let you walk away. I should, but I just… can’t.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “So… maybe you’re right. Maybe there are some things we should decide for ourselves. But it’s so risky. You say you’re not in danger, but I just can’t believe that.”

“I never said I wasn’t in danger,” Tyler said reluctantly. “I definitely am. But not from Message Man, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Let me rephrase. I know you’re in danger, but… I don’t know if it’s worth it,” Jenna said quietly. “I want to be with you, I really do. But if it means you get hurt… I can’t have that on my hands. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Tyler ran his thumb across her cheek. “But what if we made it? What if we got past the danger, and we could do whatever we wanted?”

Jenna smiled. “That’s what’s making me want to believe in you.”

Tyler flushed. He was suddenly aware of how close they were standing. They were touching, _holding_ each other, and if that wasn’t romantic, he didn’t know what was. He could practically count her eyelashes, or lean forward and drown in the blue of her eyes.

“I can’t make any promises,” she whispered. “Just… give me some time to think, okay?”

“Okay,” he breathed. “Will you keep my secret?”

Jenna smiled softly. “It’s our secret now.”

She tilted her head slightly, and before Tyler could react, she had leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

“For the road,” she said, blushing. “Take care of yourself.”

“Take care,” Tyler echoed. Jenna turned and hurried inside, but she couldn’t hide the grin on her face. He touched a finger to his cheek.

Lately, his life had been a series of unpredictable twists and turns. Every time he thought he had things figured out, a new set of circumstances would arise, dashing all his former plans. It was terribly stressful. How was Tyler supposed to know what to do if he didn’t even know where he stood? How could he move forward if the road kept shifting beneath his feet? It would be impossible. He had always relied on plans.

But as he smiled after Jenna, the flexible nature of his future suddenly didn’t seem so bad. Maybe he didn’t need plans. He just needed a purpose. As long as he had something to fight for, it would give him the strength to build his own path in an instant.

Tyler thought he might have found his purpose.


	8. i won't be waiting for you

Ghoul snapped the last piece of the grenade into place with a satisfied smile.“There we go. All done.” He turned to face Message Man. “Should we take these to Killer King?”

Message looked surprised. “So soon? I thought we would wait for Tyler.”

“Nah. Tyler is the reason we need to go so soon. If things go wrong with his lady friend… Well, it might put an end to the lucky streak we've got going.”

“I really shouldn't be surprised by your pessimism,” said Message. “All right, we’ll do it your way.” He tripped up the stairs, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Ghoul was following. They left the apartment together, Message taking the lead.

“You actually know where he is this time, right?” Ghoul asked. “We’re not going to be wandering the streets for the next two hours?”

“Yes, I do,” Message huffed. “I mean, probably. He moves around a lot!”

“‘Probably’,” Ghoul grumbled. “You ‘probably’ know where he is. How reassuring.”

“We’ll find him,” Message said firmly. “Come on, just follow me.”

They lapsed into a long silence, pierced only by their footsteps and the quiet rumble of cars in the distance. Ghoul shivered. Without sound to fill the empty spaces in his mind, it was all too easy for memories to creep in.

_”What’s your name?”_

_”Why should I tell you that?” Ghoul hissed, yanking at the ropes that held him to the chair. “Let me_ go, _motherfucker!”_

_The skinny blond one arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, no. We don't take too kindly to people stealing our shit. You knew about our security systems, so you must've planned this-- why?”_

_Ghoul barked a laugh. “Are you kidding? You’re rising stars, the lot of you. I figured you'd have stuff worth taking, and maybe in a few years, I’d get a sweet story out of it. ‘Hey, I robbed the Fabulous Killjoys and lived to tell the tale!’ Guess I was a little misguided.”_

_”Were you really just after our stuff?” asked the one with the poofy hair. Jet Star, Ghoul thought. He was supposed to be the nicest of the three. The rumors must have been true; his expression was merely suspicious, not outright furious like the others. “That’s all it was?”_

_”What else would it have been? You think I’m trying to sneak in and murder your asses?” Ghoul scowled. “That’s not the kind of reputation I’m after.”_

_The blond one, Kobra Kid, looked unimpressed. “Val Velocity’s been getting pissy lately, you might run with him. Or you could be working for BLI. ”_

_Ghoul snorted. “That kid exists in a perpetual state of_ pissy. _He wouldn't really try to kill you, he doesn’t have the guts. As for BLI, do I really look like their type?” He blew a strand of hair from his face and looked down at his army jacket. “I’m a little colorful for a drac, don’tcha think?”_

_”You can never be too careful,” said the red-haired one. It was the first time he’d spoken. His voice was higher than Ghoul had expected, a little on the nasal side. He wouldn’t have thought the so-called Party Poison could sound so… normal. Ghoul would have expected something tougher, a growl to live up to all the vengeful tales. Poison crossed his arms, glaring at Ghoul. There. That was a little better. “Look, just tell us who you are, and we can work out a deal.”_

_”What kind of deal?” Ghoul asked suspiciously._

_”Well, you were able to get past our security,” Jet Star pointed out. “Which means you know how we could make it better. You could fix it up for us, make it stronger. Obviously, you’d have to swear on your life that you wouldn’t tell anyone else, because if you did, we’d find you and ghost you faster than you can say_ stupid, _but... ”_

_Ghoul was struck dumb._

_”That’s seriously all you want? Man, I thought you were about to ask for my soul or some shit.”_

_”So you’ll do it?” asked Kobra Kid._

_”Hell yeah, if you get me outta this fuckin’ chair.” Ghoul pulled at his restraints. Kobra hesitated, but Jet stepped forward and untied the ropes._

_”Great,” Ghoul said pleasantly. “Now. My name’s Fun Ghoul, and no offense, but you really don’t know how to treat guests. Let’s fix up your security now, shall we?”_

Ghoul blinked hard, shaking the memory away. 

“So,” he said, nudging Message’s shoulder. God, he couldn’t believe he was actually _initiating conversation_ , but it was better than dwelling in his own mind. “That Tyler kid knew your real name.”

“Wha--? Oh, yeah. I guess he did.” Message bit his lip. “You think I shouldn’t have told him? It was a while ago, man, it just sort of slipped out. I can’t exactly tell him to forget it.”

“It’s definitely a risk. I’m not trying to criticize you or anything, but, uh, I just... I’m still gonna call you Message Man, but it was Josh, right?” Ghoul cringed. He was terrible at this. Sarcasm came easy for him, and the minimal conversation he usually allowed was fine, but any attempt to say something genuine just came out sounding awkward. The only people he’d been truly comfortable with were dead now. He needed to start learning some new tricks. 

“Yeah! Josh--” Message paused. “Wait, I probably shouldn’t tell you my surname.”

“Good,” Ghoul said approvingly. “You’re learning.”

“What’s your name?” Message asked eagerly. 

Ghoul stiffened. “I only got one name, kid, and it’s Fun Ghoul.”

“Oh.” Message looked away, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just don’t go pokin’ around at everyone’s tragic backstory when you get out to the zones, they won’t take it too well.”

“I won’t. Oh, hey, we’re here!” Message said brightly, stopping abruptly. He looked relieved at the opportunity to change the subject. It was weirdly satisfying to know that Ghoul wasn’t the only one who wasn’t good at interaction. “You just wait here, okay?” he said. “I’ll talk to Killer.”

“Fine by me.” Ghoul handed over the grenades. “Be careful with those. I wouldn’t be surprised if you managed to accidentally detonate them all in your own face.”

Message stuck out his tongue. “Maybe I’ll detonate them in _your_ face.” He turned down into the alley, Ghoul waiting at the entrance. After a moment, he heard Message knock on an unseen door.

“Hey, Killer King? You there?”

“Who’s asking?” said another voice. Ghoul knew in an instant that it wasn’t Killer King. This voice was higher, smoother, with less of that cocky tumbleweed vibe. 

“Oh,” said Message, disappointed. “Hey, Brobeck. It’s me, Message Man. Do you know where Killer is?”

Ghoul heard the door creak open. “He headed out to the desert a few days ago. Sorry.”

“Do you know when he’ll be back?” Message asked.

“Who knows? It could be weeks, or he might be back later this evening. I can never really tell.”

“Oh. Well, when you see him, can you tell him I stopped by?”

“Sure.”

They chatted back and forth for another few minutes, but Ghoul quickly allowed his attention to wander. They hadn’t completed their mission; they should just go back to the apartment. Eventually, Josh came back to the mouth of the alley, smiling sheepishly. 

“I really thought he’d be here.”

“I know, it’s not your fault,” said Ghoul. “Let’s go.”

***

When they got back to Message Man’s apartment, Tyler was sitting on the porch. At the sight of them, he leapt up.

“Hi! I got nervous when you didn’t let me in, where were you? Is everything okay? I can leave if this is a bad time, I just wanted to stop by,” he rambled. “I talked to Jenna and I don’t think she’s going to turn me in. She even said she’d think about leaving with us! That’s good, right?”

“Hey, slow down. Everything’s okay.” Message stepped past him to unlock the door and push through it. “Everything’s better than okay, from the sound of it. I’m glad to hear about Jenna.”

Ghoul rolled his eyes. Once they were free of the city, he had no intention of staying with Message and Tyler. It would have been a bad idea from the start to run with a pair of newbies; by adding this girl to the mix, they were only making things more dangerous for themselves. He would go back to running on his own. The Fabulous Killjoys were his family, and there was no replacing them. He’d rather fly solo than find another crew to take their place.

“I think you’ll like her,” Tyler said happily. “This is all really confusing, but knowing she’s on my side no matter what makes it easier, you know? Even if I end up regretting leaving the city,” he visibly shivered at the words, “She’ll be there.”

Ghoul was the first down the stairs to the basement, Message and Tyler close behind him. They instantly plunged into an in-depth conversation about the merits of desert life. Ghoul didn’t care to contribute. He’d heard it all before, hell, he’d _lived_ it all before. 

“One thing you’re gonna need to do is pick a name,” Message was explaining. “Like how I’m Message Man instead of Josh. Honestly, you shouldn’t know my real name at all. It’s dangerous. You have to find a good alias, and stick to it. It sort of becomes your identity.”

“How do I know what to choose?” Tyler wondered out loud.

Message shrugged. “Mine just sort of came to me.”

Ghoul plopped down onto the couch. “Mine means ‘fuck you’ in Italian.”

Message giggled. “Does it really?”

“Yup. Well, sort of. It’s not an exact translation, it’s just derived from the pronunciation.” Ghoul shrugged. “‘S good enough for me.”

“Hmm.” Tyler looked a little disappointed. “I guess I’ll just have to wait and see what pops into my head, then.”

“Hey!” Message said suddenly. “I know what might help. You don’t have much experience with desert stuff, right? Maybe you just need exposure to give you some inspiration! I was planning on playing you some music anyway… Here, give me a minute.” He scrambled back up the stairs. Ghoul laid back across the couch, staring at the ceiling until Message’s footsteps sounded once again and he reappeared beside Tyler. He was holding a portable CD player. At the sight of it, Ghoul sat bolt upright.

“Holy shit, dude. Where’d you get that?” He couldn’t stop himself from standing up and rushing to get a closer look.”Do you know how much something like this is _worth_? And in the city, no less… You’re holding a fucking gold mine!”

“I found in on a scavenging run,” Message said proudly. “There was this hideout; it must’ve belonged to a juviehall. There were some supplies, mostly food. This was hidden really well. I almost missed it.”

“No wonder. All the people I know would guard musical artifacts with their lives.” Ghoul took the CD player from Message’s hands, holding it with reverence. It was old, and definitely a little worse for wear, but it was clearly functional. A pair of earbuds were plugged into the side. Ghoul popped open the lid. Inside was a CD, bright and shiny despite its age. 

“Dibs on listening first,” said Ghoul.

“No! Nuh-uh,” Message said firmly. “Tyler gets dibs. He’s never even heard music before, come on.”

“I’ve heard some stuff,” Tyler murmured. “Like, on commercials and stuff.”

“That doesn’t count. That’s not real music. Here,” said Message, snapping the player’s lid shut and handing it to Tyler. “Give this a try.” Tyler hesitantly slipped in the earbuds, and Message reached over to press _play._

Tyler startled. Ghoul could hear the faintest strain of music coming from the headphones; a tinny guitar line and quick beat. He was itching to snatch the earbuds and let the sound wash over him, but Message gave him a stern look, so he opted against it. Fuck, it’d been so long since he heard music.

“I like this,” Tyler said, a little too loudly. “What’s the, um… Is that a guitar?”

“Yeah,” Message said, pleased. “There should be some synthesizers in a little bit.” A few seconds later, a smile spread across Tyler’s face.

“Is that them? The synthesizers? It sounds like… outer space.”

“I know, right?”

“Now you’re just making fun of me,” Ghoul grumbled.

Message laughed. “Sorry, man--”

_”Ghoul!”_

The image of Message Man before Ghoul’s eyes flickered and disappeared. Suddenly, he was somewhere else, seeing something new. 

_The Girl paced back and forth across the room, wringing her hands. “Ghoul, please say you can hear me. I’ve had better luck with you than any of the others. Something keeps interfering every time I try to reach them. Are you there?”_

_”I’m here!” Ghoul tried to say, but the words came out silent. The Girl didn’t seem to be able to see him._

_”Things are getting worse,” she said miserably. “They know it’s going wrong, but they won’t do anything to stop it, they’re so_ stupid. _They--” Her voice was interrupted by a fit of coughing. She wiped a hand across her mouth, and to Ghoul’s shock, it came back bloody._

_”It’s not real,” she whispered. “None of it’s real, but at the same time, it_ is. _I don’t know if you’re really hearing this. But if you are, you need to find the others and bring them here.” The blood on her lips was thickening, seeping down her chin. Ghoul tried to run to her, but he was frozen in place._

_Something rumbled just beside his ear._

_”Get me out of here before it kills me,” the Girl whispered._

Message waved his hand in front of Ghoul’s face. “Ghoul? You okay?”

“We… We need to find Killer King,” Ghoul managed. “We need to get out. Like, right now.” He stumbled forward, Message catching him before he could fall on his face.

“Woah, what’s going on?” said Message, concerned.

Ghoul looked up, his face ashen.

“I don’t think all the Fabulous Killjoys are dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo this fic is a side project which i dont take hella seriously but if you wanna check out my real-deal writing... i have [another party/ghoul fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8293238/chapters/18996830)... just throwin that out there,,


	9. there might be something outside your window

Tyler didn't know what was going on, but after being dragged down the street by Josh and Ghoul, he was able to piece together something to do with visions, a girl, and Ghoul’s dead family.

Ghoul’s maybe-not-dead family.

“Killer King might not be back yet,” Josh was saying. “We can't--”

“Doesn't matter,” Ghoul interrupted. “We’ll find some other tumbleweed, I don't care. We just, fuck, we need to get out of here.” His breath came in sharp gasps as he ran. “She said we needed the others, I don't know what that fucking _means_ , but--”

“If you're alive, they might be, too,” said Josh. “Let's go.”

“Wait, what's?” said Tyler, alarmed. “You mean ‘go’ as in leave the city? But we don't have a plan, we don't-- how do we even know this vision thing was real?”

Ghoul shot him a look of pure venom.

“Things like this don't just happen,” he growled. “It was real. I know it was.”

Tyler didn't bother to protest further.

“I know this puts you on the spot, Tyler, and I’m sorry, but this is sort of a life or death matter,” Josh said apologetically. “You're gonna have to decide if you're sticking with us or not.”

Tyler’s mind whirled. He couldn't make a decision like this on the spot-- or could he?

It all came down to the flip of a coin. Stay or go… Keep running free, or run home to safety?

His feet kept moving.

This was crazy. It was instantaneous, it was random, it was far too chaotic for his taste-- spur-of-the-moment action had never been his forte. But somehow, it felt right. If his instincts knew what to do, he would follow them.

There was no time for deliberation. 

“I’ll stay,” he said.

Josh beamed. “Good.”

“Cut the sappy shit,” said Ghoul. “I don’t know where I’m going, Message, I need you leading.” 

“Right, sorry!” Josh quickened his pace and took the lead. They were running down the streets in plain sight; they must have looked incredibly suspicious. What if someone saw them? The idea sent a thrill down Tyler’s spine, but it wasn’t completely unpleasant. The frantic beating of his heart was an unfamiliar sensation, but perhaps one he could get used to. Was this how killjoys felt all the time? 

Josh stumbled to a halt at the mouth of an alley. “Tyler, wait here with Ghoul. I’ll be right back.” He dashed off between the buildings, leaving Tyler alone with Ghoul, who was doubled over, wheezing for breath.

“Um, are you okay?” Tyler said tentatively.

Ghoul tried to laugh, but it came out in the form of a coughing fit. “Am I okay? The Girl is in fucking danger, I thought my friends were dead but they might not be, but if they _are_ I’m just getting my hopes up, our one way out of the city left without us, and I feel like my lungs are about to implode. Fuckin’ city air. Does that sound oka--” His sentence was cut off by a fresh bout of coughing. He thumped a fist to his chest and straightened up, breathing a little easier. “I just want to get the hell out of here.”

“With any luck, we’ll be able to,” said Tyler in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. “If--”

“Wait, shut up!” Ghoul hissed. He peered around the corner Josh had taken. “They’re talking, I want to hear.”

Tyler shut his mouth.

Josh’s voice floated down the alley, along with that of another boy. Ghoul’s eyes lit up. “That’s Killer King! He must be back, thank fuck.”

“I can’t tell you why, I just need to get out,” Josh was saying. “Look, you got your bombs. I held up my end of the deal. Can you please just try and get me out of here a little early?”

“I would if I could,” said the other voice, the one called Killer King. “But, dude, I need a favor from you, and it’s a doozy.”

Josh sighed. “Killer, I’ve got friends who want to come with me out of the city. It’s too dangerous for us to stay here.”

“And I’ve got friends who need a way _into_ the city,” Killer responded. “Whatever danger’s following you guys is nothing compared to what they’re going through. It’s only three killjoys. They’re super experienced and everything, great fighters, blah blah blah. Just trust me when I say you want them on your side, okay?”

“Killer,” said Josh, frustrated. “How much can I stress the fact that I _need a way out_?”

Killer sighed. “Fuck. I really, _really_ shouldn’t tell you this, but if it’s the only way you’ll listen… C’mere.” 

His voice lowered to a murmur, then Josh’s voice rang out: “Holy _crap_!”

“Be quiet!” Killer hissed. “Look, can you give them a place to stay or not?”

“I can give them better than that,” Josh said excitedly. His footsteps slapped against the pavement, and then he was at the corner, yanking Ghoul and Tyler into view. “I can give them the missing link!”

“Message Man!” Ghoul screeched. “You stupid fuck, I told you--”

“It doesn’t matter if he sees you, Ghoul, he knows the Fabulous Killjoys! They’re _alive_!”

Ghoul stopped short. A look of wonder crossed his face. “You… what?”

“Oh, _man_!” Killer giggled, strolling over to meet them. His eyes were sparkling with excitement, and he had his hands cupped over his mouth. “You’re Fun Ghoul. You’re really Fun Ghoul, holy shit!”

“What was that about the Killjoys?” Ghoul demanded.

“They’re alive!” said Killer. “Shit, man, they’ve been looking all over the desert for you. If they’d just known you were here... “ He shook his head, laughing. “They’re trying to get into the city to rescue the Girl, or something like that. I take it you’ll want to be around when they get in?”

“Yes! I-- fuck, they’re okay, they’re _okay._ They looked for me, oh my god, can you,” Ghoul gestured frantically, the words tumbling from his mouth faster than he could think of them, “Can you tell them I’m here? Please?”

“Sure thing,” said Killer. “I mean, jeez.” He laughed again. “I’m not a _dick._ Of course I’ll tell them.”

Tyler hadn’t known Ghoul very long, but he could tell the smile stretching across his face was a rare sight to behold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was short as all FUCk and also bad im sorry,,
> 
> this fic feels more and more like im just throwing words into the wind, hope y'all enjoy catching them/attempting to divine some meaning from this nonsense


	10. we're all in love tonight

Ghoul knew he was celebrating far too soon. Things could still go wrong. Something could happen to the Killjoys, or, more likely, to the Girl. She was still trapped with BLI, waiting for a rescue. The game was far from over, and Ghoul knew it-- there was much work to be done before they could truly claim victory.

But the only thing he could process was sweet, blissful relief.

The Killjoys were _alive._ He was going to see them again. Against all odds, it seemed things were working out in his favor. Perhaps he was setting himself up for disappointment, but all he could think of was Party Poison, Kobra Kid, and Jet Star, all alive and waiting for him.

“Are you okay?” Message Man asked. “It’s, uh… weird to see you so excited. You sure Killer King didn’t break your brain or anything?”

Ghoul rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, dumbass.” Message seemed to be expecting a sharper retort, and when none came, he burst out laughing.

“Those Killjoys really must be something, huh?”

“Well, of course. I’m one of ‘em, what would you expect?” Ghoul sniffed. 

“If they’re anything like you, I’d expect a bunch of short guys with sticks up their butts, but I get the feeling they’re a little different. God, I can’t wait to meet them!” Message seemed almost as excited as Ghoul.

“About that,” Killer King interjected. “They said we weren’t allowed to help them rescue the Girl, which is bullshit, in my very humble opinion. Ghoul, what do you think? I can come, right? Message can come?”

“Tyler can come?” Tyler said hopefully.

Ghoul hesitated. He didn’t know much about Killer King, but if the Fabulous Killjoys had banned his presence, they must have had good reason. As for Message Man, well… He had a good heart, but Ghoul still held the opinion that he was far too naive for his own good.

Tyler, of course, was out of the question. He wasn’t even off his fucking pills yet.

“No,” Ghoul said. “If the others said no, I’m gonna agree with them. Sorry.”

Killer sighed. “The Killjoys wanted to protect me ‘cause I’m friends with the Youngbloods, that’s all. If you think about it, you really do need me. I know my way around the city; I’ve got contacts, I’ve got resources. If you’re trying to break into some BLI building to get to the Girl, you’ll need backup. I can give it to you. Come on, you know you need me. Please?”

“The Youngbloods?” Ghoul questioned.

“Yeah! They’re this new crew, they’ve been hanging around with the Killjoys for a while,” Killer explained. “Decaydance, Benzedrine, Maniac, and Double-Edge. They’re really cool, you’d probably like them.”

“Yeah, whatever. The reason doesn’t matter. If the others said you’re not coming, you’re not coming.”

“Oh, come _on_ ,” Killer whined. “You wouldn’t even know they were alive if it weren’t for me! You owe me one.”

Ghoul paused.

Killer struck hard and fast, sensing weakness. “I’m not asking for much,” he coaxed. “I just want to be a part of this, y’know? I mean, you’re the _Fabulous Killjoys_. I have the ability to help you, so why should I just sit by? Why should you turn me down? I think--”

“All right, all right!” said Ghoul, throwing up his hands. “Fine. I’ll think about it. But I’ll have to talk to the others, and if they say no again, it’ll be final, okay?”

“Dang,” Message said, looking slightly awed. “A few hours ago, I never would’ve imagined you saying yes to that. Those guys really _must_ be something.”

“Oh, shut up,” Ghoul grumbled.

“I should get going as soon as possible,” said Killer. “Catch you guys later?”

“Definitely,” said Message, smiling.

Ghoul nodded. He didn’t know what to say, so he shrugged apologetically, hoping the message got across. “Uh… Thanks, I guess.”

“No problem!” Killer grinned, seeming to understand. He held up his hand for a high five, and Ghoul rolled his eyes before giving it a slap.

Killer took off down the alley, but just as he turned the corner, Ghoul saw him make a little fist pump. His whispered voice carried down the alley, probably louder than he had intended. “I just _did that_ , holy shit, fuck!” 

Ghoul snorted, then raised his voice loud enough for Killer to hear as he ran away. “If you bring my friends back quick enough, I’ll get them to sign your ass!” 

“I’ll take you up on that!” Killer yelled back.

***

Tyler stood in the doorway, chewing on his lip and glancing about the room. Ghoul was beginning to wonder if he would ever stop fidgeting. His anxiety was tangible, but as for its cause, Ghoul was clueless.

“I’m gonna go talk to Jenna,” he said finally. “She should know about this.”

“No details,” Ghoul said instantly. “She’s still under BLI’s control, she can’t know what’s really going on.”

“No, no, of course not,” Tyler said hastily. “I just think she should know we won’t be able to get out of the city as quickly as we expected. It might be a relief for her, actually.”

“Oh. I guess that’s cool, then.”

“I should tell Bear the same,” Josh said thoughtfully. “It’s been a while since we talked… Last time I saw him, it was basically, ‘Just met Fun Ghoul, gotta go, bye.’”

“It was _what_?” Ghoul said sharply. 

Message shrugged. “It was before you’d given me the whole ‘never-breathe-a-single-word-of-this-or-perish-a-thousand-deaths’ speech. He’s my best friend, so… Yeah, I told him. But it’s okay, he didn’t tell anyone else. He didn’t even make a big deal out of it when I said he couldn’t meet you.”

Ghoul rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes, sighing loudly. “And you didn’t think to mention this to me before now?”

“If I had, you probably would’ve killed me.”

Ghoul paused. “Yeah, I would’ve.”

“Are you still going to?” Message said nervously. 

“Let’s just say you’re really damn lucky I’m in a good mood.” Ghoul glared at him, but there wasn’t much venom in it. He couldn’t genuinely threaten Message Man anymore, not now that they knew each other. If he was just a stranger, that would have been one thing, but Message was a good kid. He hadn’t meant any harm. 

“Right, so,” Tyler mumbled. “I’m gonna go now. Be back later, okay?”

“Have fun with your lady friend,” said Ghoul.

“Yeah, you… uh. Have fun waiting for your friends?” Tyler said. It didn’t quite work, but he shrugged it off and waved goodbye, a smile overtaking his face as he headed for the door.

“The kid’s in love,” Ghoul observed. “I hope he realizes how dangerous that is.”

“I think he’ll be okay,” said Message, smiling. “It’ll give him something to fight for.”

“Yeah, that’s true. He really needs it.” Ghoul must have looked a little too fond, because Message raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve got a question for you,” he said abruptly.

“Shoot,” said Ghoul, slightly wary of the smirk making its way across Message’s face.

“So, you and Party Poison. I’ve heard rumors, but--”

“Yes, yes, and yes,” Ghoul interrupted. “And quite frankly, I’m surprised the worst you’ve heard is rumors.”

Message grinned widely. “Sweet! Does that mean I can make fun of you like I’m gonna make fun of Tyler and Jenna?”

“Kid, if you try that, you’ll be dead before you hit the floor.”

“Right,” said Message, but his grin didn’t vanish. “Of course, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I will shoot you,” Ghoul warned. “You will bleed and die--”

“I know, I know! I wouldn’t _dream_ of calling you a sappy bastard, no way.”

Ghoul shoved him away, but it was too late; he was pretty sure his blush could be seen from the moon. 

“You’re so lucky I’m in a good mood,” he muttered.

Message Man sniggered to himself, and Ghoul aimed a sharp kick to his shins. He couldn’t help if he was feeling good for once, damn it.

Knowing that he’d be seeing his family again, he couldn’t have been anything but.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is.. another short, sappy chapter... that also happens to be the ending!!
> 
> stay tuned for the next work, my dears. it might take a little while. i've got lots of writing to do! if you aren't reading my other poison/ghoul fic you should definitely check it out, it's much longer and better written, and i'm considering posting a new frerard fic soon. let me know if you have Thoughts on this. anyway, just stick around and i will eventually put up the third (and final?) fic in this series! thank you all for reading!


	11. update

hey guys it's the author here. there are a lot of ways i could say this but imma go with the blunt option: i'm discontinuing this series and i'll probably orphan it soon. a lot of factors contributed to this decision. i'm running a lot of concurrent projects right now so i don't have much time to write for this series, i've lost motivation for it, and, most of all, i'm really not happy with the quality of it. to be quite honest, it's embarrassing. i'm not proud of it like i am my other fics.

i know some people out there have enjoyed it, though, so i apologize to all of you :( 

thank you so much for reading and commenting while this was a thing!! 

 

 

if you want more funpoison/frerard i have a couple more works on my account and i'll be writing for bbb this year, so stay tuned for that! otherwise, have a very nice day, i love u


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